King Arthur and the Knights of the United Nations
by openedlocket
Summary: England tells the nations of the legend of King Arthur when England's fairy friends suddenly transport them to Camelot. Now everyone has become part of the legend and it's up to England to get them back to the present.
1. International Story Telling Day

It was International Story Telling Day, a day that came every year since America declared it so 5 years ago. Every nation's attendance was mandatory even if only a few nations got to share their tales. Arthur Kirkland didn't even attempt to hide the boredom on his face as the self-proclaimed leader of the nations finished up the story he told every single year.

"...and so Superman took Lois Lane in his arms and they flew around in the sky and Lois gave him his victory kiss. The end," America finished, looking smug. Some countries applauded: a few of America's former colonies, Italy, Russia, some of the younger nations, and those polite enough to give a polite clap or two. America bowed and took his seat.

'_Finally,'_ England thought to himself. At least they got America's predictable and repetitive story over with.

"Now, who's next?" America shouted into the microphone, pretending to be a game show host. A few raised their hands.

"Italy, we've already heard 'How Pasta was Invented' last time," America said to the eager Italy.

"But this one's about pizza!"

"Italy, if it's about food, then no. We don't want repetitive stories on boring subjects," America declared with finality.

'_This coming from the guy who retells the story of Superman every year," _thought England. This story telling day occasion was getting old.

"No, no, no," America said to all the countries raising their hands. "You already told stories before. Is there anyone else who hasn't told a story yet?"

England couldn't suppress his irritation, "So why do you get to tell the same story every year, you bugger?"

America suddenly stood up and gave his signature smile. "'Cause I'm the he-" he said with a self-satisfied smile before France interrupted him.

"Wait a minute, _mon amis, _I believe our friend, the English gentleman hasn't shared a story yet.

England became even more annoyed. "I don't have a stupid story you idiot!" he practically shouted.

Meanwhile, America looked through his checklist of countries. "There has to be _someone_ else who hasn't shared yet," the ones closest heard him mutter softly to himself.

England and France were still shouting at each other when America said, "England is the only one who hasn't shared yet, so I guess there's no choice. Go ahead then Iggy, this better be a good one."

France sat down with a satisfied smile and America did too. Arthur was now the only one standing, quite awkwardly, in front of the countries with a microphone in hand.

He huffed out loudly in irritation, annoyance and anger, using the pause to think of an acceptable story. The one that came up in his head was a story that he hadn't told anyone for a long time. The last person he told it too was standing at the head of the table, looking expectantly at him to begin. With no other options, he let out a sigh and begun his tale.

"In the distant kingdom of Camelot..." England began, only to be interrupted by America.

"Oh, I've already heard this one, Iggy," America complained. "And you accuse me of repetition."

"Shut up America," Germany snapped before England could give his own retort. "Not all of us have heard this story."

"But _I_ have," America insisted.

"Just because you've already heard..." Arthur began his angry reply but drifted off when he saw some of his fairy friends hovering over the nations' heads.

"England?" Italy said loudly, waving a hand in front of England's face. "Yoohoo, England!"

England snapped back to the present. "Huh? What?"

"You were with your fairy friends again weren't you? You know, the ones that don't exist," America teased.

"Why I ought to-" he started off again before being interrupted, for the nth time. Was he really that easy to interrupt?

"Let's get on with the story, _oui_?" France said, taking advantage of every opportunity to use his native tongue.

Arthur breathed in deeply and started again, trying to ignore the antics of his fairy friends. "In the distant kingdom of Camelot the people were in a state of deep unrest. They didn't have a ruler and they didn't know who to put on a throne. They had only one clue and it was a sword in a stone. The one who could pull it out would be the true ruler of all of Britain..."

Before he could continue his fairy friends started doing their magic, to what end he wasn't sure. All he could see were the intent, listening faces of the countries slowly fading away and he was too. Then a strange sensation of falling overcame him then his eyes opened to an all-too-familiar scene. The fairies had taken them to Camelot.


	2. An Explanation

England got up and took a look around. It took him some time to regain focus of his surroundings but when he finally did he almost immediately spotted his fairy friends. They were hovering nearby, looking at him with amused expressions.

"What is going on?" he whispered to them as he approached. He wasn't very keen on being labelled as insane by passers-by and therefore kept his voice low.

"Hey Arthur, don't you just love it here?" one of them asked him, floating around his head.

"Yeah, are you just so _glad_ we brought you here? We should've done this a long time ago," another one chimed, relaxing as if this was just another holiday at Fairy Beach.

"Yes, yes I'm sure," Arthur replied hastily. "But you didn't answer my question. What am I doing here? And where are the other countries?"

"Oh, ho-hum," another one of them said waving her arm around as if to shoo away the concern. "They're around here, somewhere."

England sighed in frustration, passing a hand over his face. "So you're saying that the other countries are just running around Camelot with no idea where they are and what they're doing here?"

They nodded in reply, not looking as if they cared at all which made Arthur even more aggravated. Sometimes he wondered why he even listened to these fairies, they could be as ignorant and completely thoughtless as...America.

"So, when do you fairies plan to take us back to the present?"

"When you've showed all of them how completely _awesome _you are, Arthur," they stated, almost simultaneously.

England raised an eyebrow, "Excuse me. Come again?"

"Oh admit it. Even you can see how little they appreciate you, especially _that_ America person. So we've brought you all here and now it's up to you to get all of them home, and you will. This time, you'll be the hero and everyone will _have _to admit it," one of them explained.

Arthur hid his confusion with an annoyed face. "So you expect me to play hero and get them all home just because you fairies think I'm unappreciated? Alright, fine, let's say I'm willing to cooperate, how do I find them?"

"Oh Arthur, sometimes we forget you're human. You usually have a better sense of magical understanding than this. For one thing, you _have _to cooperate, you have no other way to get back to the present. Now, tell us, what story were you telling everyone before we brought you here?"

"The Legend of King Arthur," he responded, not sure where this was going.

"Right," the fairy looked as if he were trying to explain rocket science to Italy, which would've made anyone run out of patience for sure. "Now we fairies brought you all here to experience the story yourselves, meaning..."

"That we're all part of the story now," England finished, in a hard voice, guessing from what he knew about fairy antics. "Meaning we have to finish the legend before we can come back."

"Correct," that same fairy said with a satisfied smile. "So now to wrap it all up: we brought all you countries here to play out the story of King Arthur and you're the _only _one who can get them back, since only you know how _this_ story ends."

"Anything else you forgot to mention," he asked sarcastically. These fairy antics did not amuse him one bit and it was taking up all his patience not to take out his anger on them. It didn't pay, after all, to give the fairies a reason to leave them stuck here forever.

"Hm," they thought, taking the question seriously. "Oh, everyone actually thinks that they _are _the characters and the only way to getting them to remember is...well you'll find out sooner or later."

Arthur could no longer hide his irritated expression. First they get him stuck here and now they make things more difficult. Who knew how long it would take them to return to their time, which brought him to wonder...

"Wait, are you saying that we're going to play out the whole reign of King Arthur?" he asked. Doing that would take decades.

"Well, no. Just the important events," a fairy replied. "When one significant event is played out you'll immediately skip to the next, until the story is finished and we can take you safely home. Anymore questions?"

"Well, just one. Who am I playing?" he asked, hoping that it wasn't the character he expected.

"Isn't that obvious? You're going to play Arthur."

He stared back in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" he said loudly, launching into a very moved rant about how he couldn't believe he had such horrible luck and that he was now supposed to play hero 'like that bloody git, America'. The fairies listened patiently until he was done. Finally he asked with a little plea in his voice, "Are you sure that you fairies don't want to undo this?"

"Tsk, tsk. You of all people know we can't undo our magic, even if we wanted to," one answered.

"And we don't," finished another fairy.

"You know how the story ends, right? Are you going to allow that to happen to me?" England inquired, feeling betrayed.

"You'll just have to wait and see," the fairies stated with finality.

England didn't know what else he could do but agree to these conditions so he didn't scream aloud all the doubts he had in them, as well as all the curse words he wanted to direct to them at the moment.

"Hey Arthur!" a familiar voice called out from the distance. England turned around to see who it was, but the person was still too far to recognize. He turned back to the fairies but they were gone.

"Arthur, come over here!" the voice called again. This time he recognized exactly who it was. It was America...in armour.

'_This can't get any worse,' _England thought to himself, but of course, he was wrong.


	3. The Sword in the Stone

**AN: **_Hello everyone. Thanks to all who've been reading this fan fic. I'm so happy you guys like it. I'm sorry I haven't been able to thank you all earlier but I've only learned how to put in author's notes today. I'm also really happy to see you guys are speculating, I'm getting lots of great ideas from you guys. I'm sorry if the countries aren't the knights you expected, I hope you will still like the story anyway. Thanks again :). -Mira_

**The Sword in the Stone**

"Guess what, Arty," said the America-turned-knight coming toward him. He flinched at the nickname. As if Iggy wasn't irritating enough.

"I finally got a place in the tournament tomorrow, isn't that great? I get to go head-to-head with all those other knights and I will be awarded the winner's medallion for sure," he continued.

From the way America was speaking to him (and the nickname), England could infer that he was probably younger or of lower rank than America. He called him by name and was talking to him in a friendly manner which probably meant that they were probably closely acquainted, but there was also a large possibility that they were, dare he say it, _related_.

In the legend, before Arthur was crowned king he was still known as the adopted son of Sir Ector and the foster brother of Sir Kai. He would just have to find out which knight America was to figure out how he was to play his part on all of this.

"That's great," England began awkwardly, finding it hard to treat America as his elder. "Uh, may I ask what occasion are we having a tournament for?"

"Oh Arty," America said, shaking his head in an exasperated yet amused way. "How can you _not_ remember? I've been talking about this for weeks. Anyway, that Merlin guy said that we would have the feast and tournament before we all try to pull the sword out of the stone tomorrow. Stay sharp Arthur, you might be brother to the next king of Camelot."

'_Brother,' _England thought. _'Even now I have to play brother to this stupid git?' _Anyway, at least America was still his predictable, 'heroic', self. England could get so much information out of him without even trying. So now he knows that America is playing Sir Kai, Arthur's foster _brother_, son of the man who adopted him. Now why was that so hard to accept?

"Now, remember you have to polish all my armour tonight so that I'll be ready for action tomorrow. I'm going to win!" America (or Sir Kai) cheered himself on, not caring that Arthur was lost in his own reverie.

He nodded weakly to Kai's (it felt weird to have to call him that) reminder. It was hard to believe that he would actually have to _obey _and _respect _to someone he had once known as a little brother and, later, an acquaintance. He followed the blabbering idiot to where he supposed was their home.

***

The next morning, Arthur was woken up to a lot of bustling and heavy footsteps. He got up to find America looking for something.

"Why, in the name of all things knightly and heroic, did you sleep in late? Of all days, you had to sleep in today!" Kai said to him in a panicky voice. England wondered what had gotten America's chain mail in a pinch.

"Did you need me for something?" he asked in the most indifferent tone he could muster.

"Yes," Kai stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "My lucky ring is missing and I absolutely _need _to find it."

'_He was stomping around all morning to look for a missing ring?' _England thought.

"Well, what does it look like?" he asked, looking around for any ring-like objects.

"Oh you _know _what it looks like. Just look for it already," was all America said.

'_Well I'm _sorry_ if I have no idea which you're talking about,'_ England thought sarcastically._ 'It's not like I care anyway.'_

Soon enough, the search for the ring ended. America found the ring around his middle finger, exactly where it was supposed to be. It may be the times of King Arthur but America still remained the same. He's still the same git he was before even if he is playing Sir Kai, who was an honourable, smart man in the actual tale, at least from what England had known before this whole affair had started.

***

When they finally got to the tournament (after many more delays caused by Kai) the tournament was already about to begin. America had hardly enough time to sign the attendance and to suit himself up, even if he had a grumpy Arthur helping him.

'_I wonder when the bloody git will realize that he forgot his sword,'_ thought England who knew this would happen because it was part of the original legend. That was _one_ thing he couldn't blame on America's carelessness.

Right on cue, America suddenly noticed the absence of a much needed weapon and of course it was Arthur whom he ordered to fetch it. "Quick Arty, get my sword from home. Quick!"

"Fine, fine, I'm going," he said, still finding it hard to show America respect. He ran out of the tent where they had been preparing and went to the sword in the stone. Did America really expect him to run all the way back to the house? There were a good plenty of swords here and this one was the one he was supposed to get.

He approached the sword and put his hand on the hilt. He could read the inscription on the stone: _Whoever pulls this sword from this stone is the rightful king of all England. _If what the fairies said was true then the legend would play itself out and he would be able to take out the sword. A few moments of hesitation passed before he tugged on the sword. Lo and behold, out it came.

So England took it directly to Kai who was now in the tent with their 'father', Sir Ector. Sir Ector wasn't being played by a nation but at least he was more sensible than Sir Kai was at the moment.

"Here's your sword, Kai," he said, handing it to America who was examining the hilt. Sir Ector scrutinized the blade as well.

'_Come on! Recognize it already,' _England thought impatiently.

"Where did you get this, Arthur?" Sir Ector asked, his face conveying disbelief.

"It was poking out of the giant stone at the front," England said casually, he knew what was coming next.

"Father, does this mean..." Kai trailed off, unable to finish.

"Yes. Arthur, you're the rightful king of England," said Sir Ector as he and Kai looked at him in amazement.

Arthur tried to look his most innocent and confused but wasn't succeeding very well. In his mind he said, _'Well, I could've told you that yesterday.'_

Sir Ector kneeled in front of Arthur and Kai followed suit but not before showing a disappointed expression on his face. England couldn't help but pity him a little. For the first time in his life America wasn't the hero.

Arthur felt the magic surround him again and he knew that the tale was about to move ahead.


	4. Here Comes the Bride

When England next opened his eyes he was in a large room filled with fine furniture and was on one of the softest beds he had ever lain on. Chambers fit for a king, probably because he had already been crowned one. Arthur sat up on his bed and looked around a bit more. This was the luxury he had been accustomed to centuries ago but still, it was different now that he was actually king and not just the country. It felt kind of...strange. For England, anything strange was never a good thing.

He wanted to get on with the story as quickly as possible so he forced himself to recall what came next. The next significant part the fairies would probably play out would include the wedding of Arthur and Guinevere and the establishment of the Round Table. Well, the fact that there was no queen in his bedroom told him that he wasn't married to any Guinevere yet.

_Marriage_ was something Arthur never contemplated for centuries and something he never thought he would have to think about again (with the independent nature of countries these days). He couldn't even think about the idea of being eternally bound with anyone else much less with a foreign princess name Guinevere. She was also the queen who would eventually cheat on him for the infamous Lancelot du Lac, whose last name just _happened _to be French. Every country knew that England had problems with the French, and this didn't improve his impression of Guinevere. The thought of the marriage made his temper rise.

A knock on the door did _not_ help matters. What made it worse was the fact that the person at the door was knocking in a persistently annoying and repetitive rhythm.

"Who is it?" he had to stop himself from launching into an angry string of words, complaints and etc. Why did King Arthur have to be so...unlike him? It made things even harder than the fairies originally planned it to be.

"It's your beloved brother, Kai," said the person at the door.

'_Beloved, indeed,' _England thought sarcastically. "What do you want?" he asked. _"Annoying bugger," _he added in a softer voice.

Kai obviously did not hear this last part because he didn't complain like typical America. "You need to get ready, Art- Your Grace. The day is growing ripe."

´_The day is growing ripe? Where did that expression come from?' _It was nice to hear America refer to him as Your Grace, though.

"Now open the door. Do you want to be late for your own wedding day?" continued America. Now this just confirmed England's most feared suspicions, marriage. Oh, _why_ did the fairies have to be so predictable? The question could also be: Why did he always have to be right?

"Alright, then," England forced himself to say. "Come in." The door opened and in came America with half a dozen attendants ready to get him ready for the said occasion. He had to raise his voice and punch two of them to get them to stop trying to dress him.

"Bloody gits, I can dress myself!" he practically shouted. They all looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to do as he just said.

"Not in front of all of you!" England exclaimed and they all bustled out in fear of King Arthur's temper. All of them except Kai who was leaning on the wall near the already closing door.

"Tsk tsk, Your Grace. Stooping so low as to punch your attendants? If you didn't want to get married to this Guinevere woman you could've just said so. Or are you just not ready?" Kai asked, probably trying to provoke him.

England had to control his temper before replying to Kai, "I never said that I didn't want to do everything. I just appreciate my privacy and I would like to take pride in the fact that I can dress myself. Now if you don't mind, I would like to do just that. So if you please, get out."

When America didn't leave immediate England raised his eyebrow and added, "That wasn't an option."

Kai's head shook with laughter as he opened the door. "Good old Arty," England heard him say as he walked out the door.

'_Now that the king of all idiocy is gone I can actually accomplish something,' _he thought as he dressed himself in the wedding garments the attendants had left there.

***

England was now riding out with his closest supporters to meet the to-be queen. By closest supporters that meant Sir Ector, 'Kai', and Merlin (the magical advisor of Arthur who, thankfully, was not a country and therefore, could actually be taken seriously).

Arthur couldn't help thinking that something was wrong with this picture. Alright, so something was _very_ wrong with this picture. For one, he was about to get _married._ Two, since when was America one of his top three supporters? King Arthur must either be _really_ loyal to his family or in a shortage of allies.

Far up ahead he could see the supposed Guinevere sitting atop a white horse. As they approached her they could see the hood hiding her face from the king.

"Princess Guinevere," England started off with the formal introduction that he had seen so many of his kings do before. "I am Arthur, King of Camelot and your humble servant." The Code of Chivalry required him to say this last phrase though he had no intention of ever being ordered around by his own _wife._ Wife, he was going to have to get used to the word. "We welcome you to our kingdom with open arms," England finished.

Guinevere's hands went hood as she prepared to take it off, "We are very grateful to be welcomed into your presence, Your Grace." England thought that he heard a tone of attempted seduction in her voice, which was actually quite familiar. Guinevere's hood went off and facing them now was...France?

King Arthur's face went pale with shock. _This could _not _be happening._ Everyone noticed the sudden change in his expression and asked him in concerned voices whether he was alright. He wasn't alright, he didn't even know if he was still thinking correctly. The only thoughts going on in his head were, _'Not France, not France. Dammit, this is a nightmare, isn't it? Crap, crap, crap,'_ and other thoughts of the same nature.

'Guinevere' for her (or his) part, played the role of concerned betrothed. Placing an arm on England's, France asked in a soft voice, "Are you alright?"

Promptly, Arthur passed out. There was only so much the Brit could take.

***

Arthur woke up for the second time that day, this time in a tent they had set-up for his lodgings during the travel. This time, he sat up immediately and was relieved to see that he was with his 'closest supporters' and that the bride-to-be was _nowhere _in sight.

He turned to Merlin with a sharp jerk of his head, "I _cannot_, for all the wealth in England, marry that ma-, wom-," he paused at this, unsure of how to refer to France. "Person," he finally finished.

Merlin shook his head, "You two are as good as wed for your betrothal is almost as sacred a binding as being wed. Besides I do not see the reason for your sudden...repulsion of the princess. Or did you faint at the sight of her beauty?"

England nearly vomited. There was never a more preposterous statement uttered.

"Father," he heard Kai said in the background. "I didn't know His Grace was afraid of women."

Sir Ector shushed his son who only laughed in reply. It was especially rare to see a _king_ acting this way and Kai was _not_ going to let this opportunity pass up.

"Why, Arthur," Kai said, forgetting to refer to his brother with the kingly title, "Have you never seen a seductive woman before?"

"Oh, shut up you," England said launching himself at America with fists at the ready, using anger to bypass the urge to be overcome with disgust at his current predicament. The two exchanged punches and violently tackled each other while Merlin and Sir Ector tried desperately to separate them. They only ceased their struggling when the guard outside the tent announced the presence of "the Lady Guinevere".

Guinevere looked at the men, who had all just stood up to acknowledge her coming, and gave a great curtsy. "Is there anything I could do for His Grace to help him become well?" England's mind brought up the image of Jane Seymour who managed to seduce a king with her demure nature. He could only _hope_ that Guinevere wasn't trying to achieve the same thing.

"Yes, I believe the king would very much appreciate your company Lady Guinevere," Merlin answered. "Our presence seems to be giving him some stress so we would be happy to leave him to your capable hands."

_'What? No! Don't leave me alone with that perverted France,' _England begged in his mind but he couldn't utter a word to save....well, himself from marriage.

"Right," agreed Kai happily. "Let's leave the two alone, shall we?"

"Er, no, that won't be necessary Lady, uhh, Guinevere," England finally spoke up. "I feel quite alright. It's just that, in Camelot, it is traditional to faint when you first see your wife." Not exactly true but it would save him from being alone with, ugh, France.

Kai smothered a laugh and Merlin looked taken aback but Guinevere seemed flattered, "Well, I am honoured to have garnered such a reaction from you." The she suddenly reached out and touched his hand.

"Ahh," England exclaimed, taking back his hand as if it had been burnt. "It's also traditional not to touch your beloved until _after_ the wedding."

"Oh, is that so?" asked Guinevere looking rather rejected.

"Yes," England insisted. "And we have _very _formal weddings. We don't have feasts or flowers or anything of the sort. It keeps the solemnity of the union."

England couldn't blame America for laughing outright because, to tell the truth, that had been one of the worst excuses he had uttered in his life.

"I see," replied Guinevere, still looking rather sad. "Have you no romance in Camelot? Where has the life and lustre in this kingdom gone, Your Grace?" she then asked, leaning 'seductively' forward so that her (or his) face was only inches from Arthur's. This was way, way, way too close for comfort. Arthur took a step back.

"Oh I'm sure it's somewhere. Now if you don't mind, I think I need some air," England replied. He had to get himself away from France before his brain started suffering from irreversible damage.

***

The next day the royal caravan travelled back to the palace. England had found no way to stop the inevitable and now he found himself face to face with France and an archbishop and there was a simple signing of the marriage contract.

_'Please let it be a calendar,' _England thought as he put his pen to the paper, but of course it wasn't a calendar. It was a marriage contract and he was now _married_ to France.

_'The next time I see those fairies,'_ England thought. _'I am going to give them a long lecture on interfering with my life, preferably with plenty of shouting and violence.'_

He was about to ponder and whine in his head for a bit more about the fact that he was now actually _married_ to France (he didn't even find it possible for the words _married _and _France _appear together in a phrase) but England felt a tap on shoulder and he turned around to see Merlin. With a crook of his finger Merlin beckoned him and his closest supporters (which now included Guinevere) to follow him. They were led to a hidden pavilion of the palace; one that England knew existed because, well, he is _England_ after all. There, in the middle of it, was a marvelous golden table in the shape of a perfect circle. Seats of gold, spaced out evenly, surrounded the table. The whole scene gleamed with a brightness equally brought about the gleam of the sunlight against the gold and the sparkle of magic in the air.

_'The Round Table,'_ Arthur thought and without preamble he took a seat on the closest chair. They watched as the back of the seat shone with extra gleam and then dimmed to reveal the occupant's name. It appeared that only England could see that the name on the back of the chair did not read Arthur Pendragon. Instead, golden letters formed the name _Arthur Kirkland. _

It only took a moment for England to understand what he had to do now.

_**AN:**__ Okay, I'm not turning this story into a FrUK fic but I got a suggestion from a reader in LJ that France could be Guinevere. To be honest I had no idea who should play Guinevere in the legend and I was planning to make her a non-country and Lancelot could be France but in the end I thought, why not? France as Guinevere seemed completely possible and it made the story have some direction to go on. So I went with it and now I have a definite idea of what will happen next. Anyway that was just an explanation. Thanks for reading ____._


	5. Remember

"Er, Your Grace," Merlin began awkwardly. "You didn't give me a chance to explain what the table is for."

_'I know it well enough, thank you very much,'_ England wanted to say but instead he gave Merlin a nod to go on with the lecture.

Merlin cleared his throat and began. "This is the Round Table, Your Grace, for the order of well-deserving knights who will support you and be always by your side. Only the most honourable, brave, loyal, kind-hearted-"

"Get to the point," England said, leaning back on the chair with impatience.

"Only the worthiest knights can sit here and when they do, their names will show on the back of the chair as yours has done. It won't matter which chair you sit on, though that chair over there," Merlin pointed, "will kill anyone who sits in it until the rightful time and person comes along. I think we should call it Siege Perilous."

"Well, that was very...educational, thank you Merlin. If you could be so kind, though, I need a moment alone with my, uhhhm, brother," Arthur said awkwardly, "and my...wife." The two people referred to where looking smug since they believed were being shown special treatment, Guinevere looked especially flattered. England swore to himself that he would never allow himself to be subjected to such embarrassing predicaments again.

Quite reluctantly, Sir Ector and Merlin left their presence. As soon as they were out of sight Arthur stood up and started pushing the two to chairs on the right and left of his.

"Uhm, Arthur. It's not that I don't want to be part of your new order but what's the rush?" America asked.

"Yes, dear," France spoke up. "I thought only knights could sit here? I am quite honoured for this attention, though."

"Just sit in the bloody chairs already!" England exclaimed and they finally obeyed. They all watched as the chairs shone and revealed their names: _Alfred F. Jones _and _Francis Bonnefoy._ So far, England's theory was on the right track, he just had to wait and see if the rest would follow.

The next part though, was quite unexpected. America and France suddenly had their eyes closed and heads on the table, unconscious.

_'Oh crap,' _Arthur thought, now trying to slap them awake. It didn't work on France but when he had slapped America for about a minute or two, the younger nation seemed to gain consciousness. England gave himself the pleasure of slapping America for a few extra times more than what was necessary, until he was fully awake.

"Ow. Ow. Ow! Iggy, why the heck are you slapping me?" America said as he finally regained full consciousness.

"Well, you were asleep and....wait. What did you just call me?"

"Iggy, you know? I-G-G-Y," America replied, then looking around he spotted France. "Hey, why is Francis in a dress? Have you pulled some sort of prank on us?"

"Oh, shut up and tell me: what's your name?" England questioned, hoping that America really did remember who he was.

America just smiled and asked, "How am I supposed to tell you my name if I shut up?"

"America this is not the time, just answer the stupid ques-"

"Alfred F. Jones. Sheesh Iggy, you need to chill," America interrupted. "And besides, why did you have to ask me that?"

England just sighed in relief, "I'll tell you later. Now help me wake Francis up."

They did just that and soon France was sitting up in his chair looking confused, "Dear _Angleterre, _would you care to explain how and why I'm wearing this flattering gown? Ah, _Amérique_, I see that you are also involved. Now why does that surprise me?"

If England hadn't been so relieved that France remembered his identity, he would've strangled him in pure irritation.

"Don't ask me France, this is all England's doing. So, Iggy, what exactly is going on?" America looked at England for an explanation.

"I didn't do any of this you git!" England snapped. "But anyway, to answer your question I would have to know: what is the last thing you remember?"

America thought for a while before answering, "Something about you telling a boring story and....yeah, I had this dream."

"A dream?" England asked, confused.

"Yeah, about that boring King Arthur story you were telling us. Though, it started getting interesting when I got this vision of you _marrying_ this girl who looked like France. I wonder where that came from," America laughed, not knowing how much his words embarrassed Arthur.

"_Oui,_" added France. "I had the same dream as well, I found it quite amusing. It's probable _Angleterre_ was projecting his desires into our heads with his 'magic', _non?_" Both he and America laughed at the shared vision, not knowing it had really occurred.

"It wouldn't be so funny for the two of you if it had actually happened," England interrupted their laughter, trying not to look as if he cared.

"Oh, come on, Iggy. Like you just said, it didn't actually happen so there's no harm in laughing," America chuckled, wiping a fake tear of mirth from his eye. "Anyway, what does that have to do with us being here?"

"I was about to get to that part if you two didn't start that endless laughing," England scowled, partly because he was just about to tell them that everything they had joked about was true. "So, don't laugh but...what if those dreams were actual events?"

"Ah," replied France. "Then we'd have to take you to a hospital to get your head checked, dear." Another round of laughter came from the two and Arthur stood there with arms crossed, waiting for them to finish. When they finally calmed down he tried to explain again.

"It's true and I'll prove it. You know I can see fairies, right?"

The two played along and nodded, trying to hide their snickering as they did.

"When I was telling my King Arthur story the fairies came and brought us all here. We've been here all along, playing the characters of the legend," Arthur summarized, hoping they would believe him.

His hopes were crushed when France said, "_Mon cheri,_ I think I have a better idea of what happened. When that whole story-telling thing was over, we all got drunk at themed costume party in Vegas. Then, in a flame of passion you and I drove over to the closest priest and got ourselves married. We then booked a room in a motel and--"

"Francis, you bloody git," England said, kicking France's shin. "I'm serious."

"Well, so am I. It's more possible than what you're trying to tell us anyway."

"I would _never_ even go to Vegas, much less get drunk at a themed costume party there. Also, the possibility of me getting married to you willingly is non-existent even if I drank ten gallons of Russia's vodka. So what makes you think any of that is even possible?" England practically shouted.

"Hey! Iggy, Francis, stop fighting!" America suddenly cut in. "I, the hero, will tell you both what _really_ happened."

England was about to object but America shushed him and speculated, "I think...that while Iggy was telling his boring story, aliens suddenly attacked all us countries and brought us up to their UFO to dissect us. Of course I (the hero), couldn't allow that so I untied us all and we escaped their prison but they pursued us. So we hid in their holographic rooms. Unable to get to us, they projected images of an old English place and they made our worst fears play out in our heads so that we'd get confused. They also flashed some of their amnesia-inducing light into our eyes so that we don't remember a thing about them."

"Ah-ah-ah," France wagged a finger at America. "If that were true then all the countries would be with us and by the way, where did that bit about the worst fears come from?"

"Well, Iggy thinks he got married to you and we all know that he hates you," America replied.

"Ouch, I'm hurt," said France, feigning despair.

"And I have this strange feeling of disappointment," America added.

"Disappointment?" France asked, giving England no chance to stop this ludicrous discussion.

"Yeah," answered America, his voice just a bit softer. "It's this strange feeling of being...unimportant. Maybe the aliens were making think that I wasn't the hero to make me lose my confidence and bravery."

"Goodness," England snapped as he completely lost his temper. "The reason we are here is because those bloody fairies think that I'm unappreciated so they bloody made me King Arthur! You," he said pointing at America, "have been acting like Sir Kai and you," he turned to France, "were bloody Guinevere!"

"Iggy," America tried to interrupt but was overrun by England who was practically screaming now.

"And for the past few days I've been forced to play this 'hero' part that I don't even bloody care about and marry France! As if that didn't make things hard _enough,_ I have to go find all the countries and make them sit in these bloody chairs so that they'd all remember what had happened and I can get the bloody fairies to take us all back to where we're supposed to be!"

Arthur took a deep breath and told himself to stop being so emotional, and to stop using the word 'bloody' so many times in a conversation (which he often did when he was angry).

After a few moments he laid down his ultimatum, "There! That's what really happened, doubt me if you must but hear this: if we don't get all the countries to remember and if we don't finish the legend we'll be stuck here...forever."

America looked at France, "Do you think it's the truth?"

"I think our little English friend believes he's telling the truth...or his best estimate, at least," France replied.

America looked apologetic, "Sorry, Iggy. It's just a bit too hard to believe."

"Well you're going to have to believe it. I don't think we can get out of here otherwise," Arthur said before turning away to depart. The sun was setting, it was twilight but the three countries didn't realize it until then. The sky was already quite dim and the clouds partly covering the setting sun made their surroundings seem darker.

America and France were about to follow England when they heard something move behind them. They both turned around to look, and after a few moments of stunned silence....

"Hey, Francis," America asked France nervously. "Did you just see...?"

"_N-non_," France stuttered nervously. "But I think we should go after England. He could be quite scared being on his own."

"I agree," America replied before yelling out, "Iggy, wait up!"

England smiled to himself, it paid to be observant. He decided not to say anything to the two nations as they tried to justify the bright, flying figures they had just seen. He would do anything to convince them that he was telling the truth.

Arthur stopped himself from laughing out loud as the two repeatedly looked over their shoulders to make sure of what they had seen.

'_Fireflies,' _thought Arthur, _'tend to look a lot like fairies'_.


	6. Being a Hero

Now that he knew exactly what had to be done, finding the rest of the countries started becoming easier for England. All he had to do was to gather the countries to the table and get them all to sit there. Of course, things are always easier said than done. There were so many missing countries, and the fact that they still don't know their true identities made it more complicated; that and the fact that instead of having an insufferable Kai and a clingy Guinevere, he now had a disheartened America and a saddened France. Even now, as he sat on his desk to write a royal proclamation (to call knights to Camelot) the two were endlessly whining and complaining, disrupting his work more often than not.

"Iggy, I'm _bored_," America said, sitting on the floor beside England's desk.

"So?"

"So...I have nothing to do, and if I have nothing to do I guess I'll just have to sit here and complain about it. Besides, if _I _were the hero we'd be home by now."

England glared, "Well if you think it's that easy then you try making this proclamation sound decent." He handed America the papers, practically shoving them into his face.

America scrutinized the pages. "Your problem, Iggy, is that you sound _way_ too professional. Being the hero means having a personal relationship with the people you save. That's why all the superheroes have _girlfriends_."

"Oh, really?" Arthur asked sceptically. "Name one."

"Superman, Spiderman—"

"I meant someone who wasn't conceptualized by Americans," England interrupted.

"Oh, whatever," America snapped, turning back to the letter. "Anyway, your introduction sounds so commanding. No one will ever listen to you if you impose authority. It should be something like 'Hey, fellow knights and English guys, I'm having a party at my totally awesome castle. Come along and join the fun.' Or something along those lines."

"I am trying to assemble a knightly order, _not_ a strip club," Arthur said through gritted teeth.

"Well if it gets all of the nations here, then why not?" America shrugged. "I bet, if you didn't already find France, he would be the first to get here for a party like that."

"The countries don't remember who they are, remember?" England replied. "By the way, where is France? I haven't heard a peep from him ever since he last complained about..."

"About?"

"Oh, you know. How I absolutely _fail_ in my duties as a husband," England flushed in embarrassment. He thought he had that whole husband thing over with when France regained his memory but France had decided to take the marriage thing seriously, often despairing over the fact that England _refused_ to acknowledge the union and that he, 'the country of love', was now 'off the market'. 'Think of all the broken hearts!' he had said.

America gave a light chuckle, "Oh that again. So...I'm guessing you aren't going to take the party suggestion?"

"No," England shook his head once.

"You know, it's hard to be your sidekick if you don't even let me help," the usually cheerful America suddenly moped.

"Sidekick?" England inquired.

"Yeah, Kai's supposed to be Arthur's seneschal, right? The right hand man of the hero."

"You don't have to take your role so seriously you know? I certainly don't," Arthur replied.

"Iggy! How can you say that?"America suddenly asked, standing up in outrage. Now England had to look up at him since he was still sitting on his chair.

"What?" England's thick brows furrowed in confusion.

America gave him a hard stare, "You are supposed to be the _hero_! You have a _responsibility_! How can you _not _take that seriously?"

England stood up as well. "I just meant that I don't take being a _king_ in a legend seriously, but to tell the truth I don't even see sense in the glory and victory thing you envision in heroes. I've _never_ understood that about you Alfred! Why does being the hero always seem so important to you?"

"What _I _don't understand is why it means so _little_ to you, Iggy! You treat being a hero as if it doesn't even matter! It isn't just about that honor and glory thing you think I'm so fixated on. It's about..."

"What? What is it about?"Arthur challenged. They stared each other down until America's eyes finally softened and he turned away. Arthur suddenly felt guilty.

"Look, Alfred. You're right; I should be taking control of the situation instead of just being bitter about being forced into responsibility. I shouldn't—"

America interrupted him, his voice as soft as a whisper. "You know why it means so much to me, Iggy? When you're the hero, you know what you have to do. You never feel helpless and useless because people depend on you and you know it's possible to do something for them. You don't know how it feels Iggy...not knowing what I can do to help. I don't even understand this situation we're going through and... I just don't know _what_ my place is in all of this."

This was a side of America he hadn't seen in a long time. Memories of a young, blue-eyed colony suddenly flashed inside Arthur's head. He felt the suddenly urge to make Alfred smile like he used to so many years ago.

"Alfred," England said in a gentle, but firm voice. "Look at me." When America finally turned to him, he swallowed hard and continued, "Do you remember when I used to tell you heroic tales, like King Arthur, when you were younger?"

America nodded and England continued. "Now tell me: what would King Arthur be without his knights? Or any of those other heroes without their friends, their families, their...brothers?" He didn't wait for Alfred to reply. "They would be nothing. Heroes would be nothing without the people who are there for them."

America was about to argue with that point but England guessed what he was about to say, "Yes, Alfred, even _American_ heroes. You said it yourself: all the superheroes have _girlfriends."_

America smiled and seemed to be cheering up. "Thanks Iggy," he said with sincerity. "You know what?" America said with a smug smile. "Underneath that hot-blooded, armour-plated, grouchy outside, you're still a _real_ softie. Hero or not."

England crossed his arms, "Don't push it, bugger."

America was about to reply when France entered the room with a tray piled with food.

"Have you been raiding the kitchens?" Arthur asked Francis, watching him put the tray on the table.

"_Non, mes amis._ I was just sampling your interesting cuisine," replied France, who had already sat down to eat.

"Are there any burgers?" America asked.

"_Non_."

America looked dismayed, "Then what _is_ there?"

"Sheesh," England said sharply. "Burgers aren't the only edible dishes in the world."

The other two ignored him and examined the pile of food some more. America finally decided that it was safe to sit down and try some of the food as well. England sighed and got back to his work.

"As we French say," he heard Francis utter, "_Bon appétit."_

"Hey, Iggy didn't cook this stuff, right?" America asked when he thought England wasn't listening.

"Don't worry _Amérique, _I made sure of that personally," replied France and the two finally started eating.

***

The proclamation was announced to the people of Camelot the next day and soon a few knights had already responded by going to the palace to meet the king.

First, Sir Bedivere and his brother Lucan arrived, who turned out to be China and Japan respectively. Arthur found this ironic since the two hated each other as countries and were now forced to be 'brothers', much like his experience with Alfred. Soon enough the two were seated in their chairs and had recalled everything, so Arthur had to explain everything once again. Alfred and Francis often cut in to say something Arthur had 'accidentally' left out, like the whole wedding episode. Yao and Kiku had a good laugh at that, much to the chagrin of poor Arthur.

Arthur then told the two a bit about their characters. Yao, who was quite into the role-play, decided to be more like his character. Bedivere had one arm in the story and quite unwilling to chop off his arm, Yao decided to constantly carry around a giant stuffed panda instead so that he would only have one available arm.

"Yao, is that really necessary?" Alfred asked him.

"No, but it's fun –aru," Yao replied cheerfully.

Arthur thought for a few moments before saying, "Yao, if anyone asks why you're carrying that tell them it's your initiation or something. They might find it weird."

Yao nodded.

"Hey," Francis said. "Why is _he_ the only one with a cool initiation rite? I think we should make all the knights streak in front of the palace before we let them sit at the table."

This statement caused everyone to look quite uncomfortable, except for England who gave France another kick in the shin.

"Ow," Francis said. "Is your foot in love with my beautiful shin or something?"

England glared at him before exiting. He still had a lot of work to do.

***

To make sure that even the female countries would regain their identities, Arthur announced that he would be accepting noble women in the order as well.

In response to this announcement Queen Iseult (of another kingdom), with her lover Tristan and his friend Dinadan, came to the palace and were also seated around the table. Queen Iseult and her companions then remembered that they were actually Hungary, Austria and Prussia. The three couldn't bring themselves to accept England's explanation at first but in the end they were forced to believe. Elizabeta actually liked the idea of being a queen on a romantic affair with a Sir Tristan.

"Did you hear that Roderich?" Hungary said to Austria, her eyes shining. "We were lovers forced to escape from the tyranny of all those holding us back."

"You mean your 'husband' right?" Austria asked in reply.

Elizabeta hit his arm lightly, "You know that I'm not really married to that King Mark guy. We're just in a fictional legend...at least that's what England says."

England scowled.

"Frankly," Gilbert said. "I'm just offended you didn't invite my awesome self to the wedding. Plus, you chose to have an affair with Roderich instead of me."

Elizabeta punched his arm before turning to Arthur, "Would you happen to have a big frying pan around here? Preferably, steel."

"No, but we have these big cauldrons for cooking..."

"Good," replied Elizabeta. "Now, can you please point me to the kitchen?"

***

Another person who came to sit at the Round Table was Morgan Le Fay (the real Arthur's sorceress 'half-sister'), otherwise known as Belarus.

"Iggy," America said to England before they let Belarus sit at the table. "Are you sure you're going to let her sit?"

"Yeah, I am. Why?"

"Well, you know how scary she is right? Now, she's a sorceress too. Don't you think it would be a little dangerous to help her get back to her senses?"

"Hmmm," England said, giving it some serious thought. "I guess we'll just have to deal with it. Besides, she might not get the sorceress powers anyway."

America wanted to disagree but decided to keep his mouth shut. Iggy was always one who was sure to make the correct decisions.

When Belarus regained her memory she immediately demanded an explanation. After she learned that she was playing a sorceress, she cared less about what had happened and more about her new found abilities. She then started hatching plans of producing love potions for a certain brother of hers.

Soon, the Table started filling up with more and more knights and nobles. England was glad that they were finally on the right track. _Let's hope things will always go this smoothly,_ he thought to himself, but, knowing the countries, he didn't really count on it.

_AN: Thanks for reading up to this chapter everyone. You've all been so supportive and nice. Thanks for everything. Though, I have to warn you all that the main villains of the legend (Mordred, Agravain, and, yes, Lancelot) aren't going to be played by countries. I found it hard to fit characters for the roles but I'm going to make sure that the story still turns out a good read. Hope you still keep reading :) _

_-Mira _


	7. Knights?

Only one month after the announcement they had managed to gather about two-thirds of the nations, which wasn't as easy as it sounded. First dilemma: they were running out of chairs for the table, which wasn't as simple as it sounded. All the chairs had been made of gold which was never cheap, especially now that England barely even taxed his citizens and the kingdom didn't have much money to spare. He asked the other nations about this and America suggested that he raise the taxes.

"I can't do _that_," Arthur insisted. "The people need enough money as it is."

"Goodness Iggy, you're a king now. If you're so partial to your citizens, you'll never get anything accomplished," America replied.

"They won't like it."

"So? What can they do about it?"

"You've obviously never faced the London Mob before. It's not a sight you'd want to see," England countered.

"I say," Prussia cut in, "that we simply share seats. There's plenty enough room in Hungary's chair for the two of us."

"Watch it Gilbert, I have a metal cauldron at the ready," Hungary threatened.

"Ah," said France. "I think I like Prussia's suggestion, don't you Seychelles?"

Seychelles, who came as Lady Elaine of Astolat, looked much discomforted and didn't respond to France's advances. Instead she brought out a fish and listened to Taiwan and Liechtenstein (Lady Lynett and Lady Lyonesse) teach her all the different ways they knew how to prepare the creature for consumption.

Austria, for his part, excused himself from the room and went to get his sheet music trying to avoid the brothers Sir Percival (North Italy) and Sir Lamorak (South Italy) who were trying to separate themselves from one another, having accidentally bound themselves together with some rope. England had no idea how that had happened and he didn't want to find out.

In the end, England just gave in and raised the taxes. The people didn't mind it much after all.

The second dilemma: poor Canada. He had come to the palace with the famous 'Orkney' brothers: Gawain (Switzerland), Gaheris (Hong-Kong), Agravain, and Mordred (two non-countries to Arthur's surprise). Sadly, though, Canada was ignored, since, (once again) everyone forgot him.

America spotted him, thought he was a kitchen servant and asked him to prepare a hamburger. Thinking this was his knightly duty, he did so (even if he had no idea what a hamburger was) and brought it to America during the countries' 'night-meeting', the only they could meet without the non-countries becoming suspicious. Looking rather upset, Canada asked, "Why do my brother's get to sit at the table?"

England turned to Switzerland and Hong-Kong, "Did he come with you guys?"

Switzerland shook his head. "I don't remember him."

"Neither do I," Hong-Kong agreed.

"But I'm your _brother_," Canada insisted. "I'm Gareth, the youngest. _Remember._"

"Hey," America said looking at the plate Gareth had brought with him. "This isn't a hamburger. This is just ham, with bugs on top. I said _burger_ not 'bugs'."

Everyone ignored him and looked curiously at Canada.

"He does seem familiar," France shrugged. "Arthur, let the young thing sit at the table, will you?"

Despite feeling a bit awkward, Gareth was glad to receive permission to sit at the table. He suddenly fell unconscious (like everyone else did) but soon he woke up to the sound of France's voice.

"_Mon cheri_, you are obviously a country. So, tell us who you are," France said to him.

Canada felt stung, they had forgotten him again. "I'm Canada," he said. "Matthew Williams, remember?"

"Now that you mention it," America thought aloud. "No...no I don't."

Matthew had to be comforted for another half-hour before he got over the frustration of feeling so forgotten. This was still a problem, however, because all the countries had to be constantly reminded who Canada was. Once or twice, he was even ordered by America to make him a hamburger. He even gave the forgettable 'servant' a name, Beaumains. Canada, of course, hated the fact that his own brother couldn't even remember him.

The third dilemma: pure chaos in Camelot. Could anyone actually think that having the countries at Camelot would be peaceful? England certainly didn't depend on it.

"_Angleterre," _France said approaching him in private. "Since you obviously don't have any plans to take our relationship anywhere I would like you to sign this." England looked at the piece of paper.

"You're filing for a divorce?" England asked, his expression was one of disbelief. "Divorce doesn't even exist yet."

"Well, then. I'd have to be trend-setter. Think about it _mon_ _cheri_, women now don't have to be bound to the wishes of their possessive and cruel husbands. It's revolutionary!"

"You're going to turn this kingdom upside down, git," England snapped. "You'll just have to live with the relationship."

France shook his head in disapproval, "You're so unromantic! You won't even go on your knees and beg for me to stay."

"When we get back, we won't be _married_, since this _is_ just a fictional legend," England said, apathetic to Francis's dilemma. 

France was about to argue but then America, the Italy brothers, China, Japan and Prussia burst into the room.

"Quick everyone, lock the door," America yelled out. China immediately locked the door with his available hand.

England, growing quite used to this, just asked, "What is it this time?"

"England, England," Feliciano wailed. "Elizabeta is chasing after us with the giant cauldron because Prussia and America—" His sentence was interrupted by America's hand covering his mouth.

"Hey, don't do that to my brother you stupid American," South Italy said angrily, trying to get America's hand to stop covering Feliciano's mouth.

England just turned to Japan, "How did they anger Elizabeta, Japan?"

"Alfred and Gilbert-san tried to spy on Seychelles, Taiwan, and Hungary as they were talking in private," Japan calmly said.

"Hey, it isn't as bad as it sounds. They were just talking about girly things, nothing interesting," Prussia defended himself.

"Except for that part when they started talking about their...personal relationships with other countries. Now _that_ was interesting. Especially when Taiwan mentioned that she has this girlish crush on Japan," America added.

"I don't think we should be discussing their private matters," Japan said, blushing.

"Don't be such a party-pooper, Japan. You're just flattered," Prussia teased.

England ignored Prussia's trouble-making, "So, Yao, how did you, the Italians, and Japan end up with these two again?"

"I'm not exactly sure, aru. We were just sitting there; nearby the place America and Prussia were observing the girls. Then we heard Elizabeta shouting and running after the two of them. The two ran to where we were sitting and tried to use the Italy brothers as human shields against Hungary's giant pot. She must have thought we were spying on them too because she tried to attack us. So we escaped with them here."

"She broke my white flag," Italy was now crying. His brother was trying to help him look for tape, which, of course, didn't exist yet.

Before England could yell at all of them to shut up, a sudden banging noise came from the other side of the door. "Open up," Elizabeta's voice sounded along-side the banging.

England sighed and started walking towards the door. He was about to unlock it when he was suddenly tackled by America.

"Are you insane, Iggy?" America asked him. "Do you want her to kill us?"

England struggled to free himself of America, "Let go of me, you little—"

"Help me with him Gilbert," America called out to Prussia, who held Arthur's arms while America looked for something to bind them with.

The banging on the door intensified.

"Someone, open the door before she breaks it down," England shouted. No one opened the door, they were all probably too afraid of that cauldron.

As a last resort, England tried to appeal to Hungary, "Stop banging the bloody door. You're going to break it—" Right on cue, the door fell off its hinges and fell, revealing Hungary, Seychelles, and Taiwan.

"Down," England finished weakly. _Well, that's another expense I'll have to deal with," _England thought as he watched all the others run around the room trying to escape Hungary's wrath.

Hungary was busy chasing Gilbert and America while the other two armed themselves with ink bottles, cushions, and anything else they could find in the room.

"That's what you get when you spy on us," Taiwan said to the Italy brothers as she threw the ink bottles at them. Meanwhile, Seychelles was hitting Yao with a fish she had somehow brought with her. Japan and France managed to hide behind a table, trying to avoid getting hit by anything that was being thrown around.

"We surrender," Italy cried desperately, hiding behind his brother.

"Yeah, yeah," Gilbert agreed. "We're sorry! Besides, it's not that bad. Japan took it very well, Taiwan."

"You told Japan?" Taiwan shrieked. "Elizabeta, give me that cauldron. Let me at them."

As more chasing and screaming ensued, England managed to untie himself.

"Can all of you stop acting like a bunch of immature dolts and stop this racket?" he shouted. No one paid attention to him, if anything, the noise got even louder.

_'Well, only one thing left to do.' _England brought out his sword from its sheath, ran up to Elizabeta and heaved the sword at the cauldron. Everyone stopped to look at the metal clashing on metal and Elizabeta dropped the cauldron in surprise. The metal pot rattled like a gong, silencing everyone in the room.

Satisfied with the quiet, England calmly put his sword back in his sheath and placed it in a corner.

America was the first to break the shocked silence, "That...was...awesome, Iggy! I didn't know you knew how to use a sword."

"Of course I do, bloody git. Sword-fighting is a must-know for anyone during this time period in England," Arthur said with an irritated tone. He couldn't help but feel just a _little_ self-satisfied at the shock on their faces, though.

"But, still, that was like...woah," America prattled on. "I didn't think you'd still know how to do something cool like that, seeing how boring you are now."

"Excuse me?"

"You know what I mean."

"Right," England said sarcastically. "Now can someone help me clean this mess up before anyone else sees it?"

They spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning. 

_***_

To attract more knights to Camelot, America suggested that they hold a tournament and invite foreign knights to compete. Everyone thought this was a good idea and a few wanted to join the tournament as well, much to England's distress. He had to spend a whole week trying to teach his 'knights' how to joust.

"Alright, so the first thing we have to do is to pick out horses for you," England started his lecture. He supervised Gilbert, Alfred, and Japan, who all thought it would be fun (or educationally beneficial, in Japan's words) to try out jousting. They went into the stables and started picking out horses.

"Hey, I wanted that one," England heard America's voice complain.

"I got it first. That's how awesome I am," Gilbert replied to America.

Further squabbling ensued between America and Prussia for another ten minutes and by that time, Japan was already starting his first practice joust with England.

_'It's going to be a long week,'_ thought Arthur.

***

Finally, it was the day of the tournament. The countries had been excited the last few days, since they would finally get to watch their first joust. Many other foreign knights came, most of them were non-countries but Feliciano managed to spot a certain Sir Bors among them who looked a lot like Germany (because he was). North Italy couldn't have been happier to find his closest ally.

"England, England," Italy said, tugging on Arthur's sleeve. "Can I go to Germany now?"

"Shh, Italy," Elizabeta cut in. "The joust is starting." Everyone's gaze suddenly shifted to the arena.

The first joust was against America and Japan. They charged at each other and, surprisingly, America managed to hit Japan and make him fall off his horse. He probably didn't plan on falling off himself, which is exactly what happened when he lifted up his heavy lance in victory and toppled backwards. Nobody found that scene more entertaining than England.

The next joust was against Sir Bors and a Sir Lionel, who South Italy promptly recognized as Spain. Sir Bors won. _'Which isn't too unexpected since he showed more expertise in his stance and hold of the lance from the start,'_ England observed with a professional's eye.

After a few more jousts, they saw 'Sir Bors' again. This time, he would joust with Prussia. The two charged at each other, Prussia holding his lance quite low. Suddenly, Sir Bors's horse jerked its body to the side, making his rider fall off. Prussia had used his lance to poke Sir Bors's horse in the eye.

"Hey, that's cheating," Italy shouted, standing up. Gilbert just looked at him from the arena and stuck out his tongue. Italy took out a tomato from his pocket and threw it at Gilbert's face (with quite good aim from such a distance). The other countries cheered for Italy and England had to calm them down so that the next joust could start.

The last joust was between Gilbert (the champion so far since he had cheated through all his opponents) and a non-country.

_'What a familiar chap,' _England thought.

"What a _beau jeune home," _France said, looking dreamy.

"What?" England asked.

"I said: what a beautiful young man," France replied. "Why _Angleterre_? Are you jealous?"

"No, you twit," England snapped. "Though I hope you notice that your 'beautiful young man' is in a dress."

"What?" It was France's turn to be surprised because, indeed, the young man was wearing a dress over his armour. Prussia saw this too and started laughing. Distracted, he didn't see the young man charging at him. Gilbert only realized he had been defeated when his body met the ground and he was in too much pain to stand up.

The young man then slipped out of his horse and took off the dress. To the shock of all, he slipped it on over Gilbert's armour, a badge of shame. Recognizing the person's actions from the legend, England finally realized who this young man was.

When they honoured the victor, it was Arthur who stepped up and awarded him the winner's medallion.

"Congratulations...Sir Lancelot," England said as he placed the chain over the young knight's head.

"How did you know my name, Your Grace?" the confused knight asked.

"Oh," Arthur said with a grim smile, "I've heard of you before."

***

_**ARthur**____**Author**__**'**__**s **__**note:**__The part about Lancelot defeating Dinadan in a joust by wearing a dress is actually part of the legend. When Lancelot defeated his opponent, he put the dress on Dinadan. Poor Gilbert! _

_Thanks again for reading!_


	8. Russia and the Grail

Things had become quite peaceful for England the next few weeks after Lancelot arrived. For one thing, France was too occupied with the dashing new knight to bother Arthur. The countries also found better ways (other than torturing each other) to preoccupy themselves during their stay at Camelot. They participated in a wide variety of activities that medieval England had to offer, such as riding and hawking. Some, like America, even tried archery and swordplay. _Well, it's good that he's focusing on something worth his time,' _England thought.

He had always been proud of his country's culture during this era but the chaos he had to deal with these past few months didn't give him any time to appreciate his history. Now, with a bit of quiet, he was able to take a few walks around the palace grounds and reminisce, something he never really had time to do before. Memories of chivalric tales flooded his mind, the days of his 'youth'. If all of the countries had known him then, they wouldn't underestimate him like they did these days. Their image of him wouldn't be an old, boring grouch who liked nothing more than to drink tea and eat scones. Things were different then, so very different.

"Hey, Iggy!" America's voice sounded a few feet away. '_There goes that peace and quiet.'_

"America, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that in public?" Arthur said, turning to see the approaching America and Canada.

"There's no one here, it's not a big deal. Anyway, you were all lonely over here so what's-his-name and I decided to grace you with our presence. Well, mostly mine."

Canada looked upset again, "It's Canada."

"Huh?" Alfred looked confused. "Sure, yeah. Whatever."

"Well, did it ever occur to you that I _wanted_ to be alone?" England retorted.

"Who would want to be alone if they could be with me?" America smiled, looking smug.

"I certainly do."

America was about to disagree when they suddenly heard some giggling and talking from afar. They turned to the direction of the sound and saw France flirting with a knight in the distance.

"Is that Francis?" America said, looking shocked.

"Apparently, it is," England replied, looking bored. He had expected this from Lancelot and Guinevere, after all.

"And you don't care?"

"Obviously."

"Are you sure?" America asked, actually sounding concerned.

"Of course I am, you git. Do you think I actually care if France goes and flirts with that Lancelot fellow?" England retorted.

"So you _knew_ that Francis was secretly meeting with Lancelot?"

"Yes. In fact," Arthur replied, "I practically _encouraged_ them."

America raised his eyebrow in scepticism. "Oh really, now?"

England could hear the tone of disbelief in his voice, "Yes, I did. That was what the 'I am definitely not going to give you the time of day' act was for. Alfred, honestly tell me: Do you know so little about me that you think I would be depressed over _Francis_? Another thing, how little of this legend do you actually remember?"

"No, I don't think you would be depressed over Francis under normal circumstances, but you did marry the guy—"

"I _had_ to, remember?"

"Yeah, which just proves you aren't under normal circumstances. Normally I, the hero, could never be wrong but right now I'm _not_ the hero. So, yeah, I think that gives me some margin for error. About your second question, yes I did recall something about an affair but I didn't assume that the _hero_ of the story would be the one victimized. Your heroes don't really fit the mould of _my_ stories, you know," America finished.

"I remember something," Canada finally spoke up. "The affair between Lancelot and Guinevere led to the turning point of the legend, right?"

"Very good, Matthew," England praised then turning to America said, "You could learn a thing or two from him."

"Learn from my younger brother? Impossible," America replied haughtily.

Canada was just happy his brother remembered him, at least for now.

***

The countries had another one of their meetings that night. England decided to use the time to explain the next important sequence of events, which mostly concerned France.

"So you, _mon_ _cheri_, are going to let this Mordred and Agravain reveal my affair with Lancelot (which you already know about). Then, you're going to order my arrest and sentence me to death so Lancelot can rescue me?" Francis asked, looking surprised.

"Yes, is that a problem?" England asked.

"Well, apart from the fact that I'll be risking my beautiful self, I find it...quite _romantique_." France replied, looking quite pleased.

"Hong Kong and Canada," England said turning to them now. "When Lancelot comes to rescue 'her', you will be the ones guarding the prisons. Don't fight him, alright? I don't want anyone getting hurt here."

The two nodded in agreement. Neither of them wanted to die like their characters in the legend. England was pleased that the countries were becoming more cooperative, even America didn't disagree with him at every other suggestion. He was about to move on to the next matter when the entrance to the pavilion was suddenly opened. They all turned to see who had come in.

"Russia!" Belarus shrieked, running toward the newcomer before anyone could stop her. He was indeed Ivan and he looked perfectly aware of it.

"Get away from me Belarus!" Russia yelled, not looking confused like everyone had expected, rather, he looked terrified...of Belarus. A chase scene between the two ensued all around the table before the other countries could get to either of them.

When everything had calmed down everyone was asking Ivan how he had regained his memory. "I never lost it," Russia calmly said.

"Really? How did that happen?" someone asked.

"Well, when I started feeling very confused and seeing these floating lights," Russia explained. His 'dark aura' suddenly came on as he continued, "I swatted them away, like flies."

'_The poor fairy,' _England couldn't help thinking.

"So...where's my chair, Arthur? Is it this one?" Russia asked, already starting to sit on the Siege Perilous.

"No, Ivan. Don't!" England called out but it was too late. All they could do now was wait to witness the inevitable tragedy. Screams of shock suddenly erupted when they heard a crashing sound. _'The chair...broke?'_ England couldn't seem to believe it.

Refusing to show his shock to the other nations England just calmly said, "I guess he's Galahad then."

"Gala-who?" America asked.

"Galahad, the one who achieves the Holy Grail," England answered impatiently. "Honestly! Do you have memory loss or something?"

"Maybe."

"Then get your head checked."

"I intend to... after they diagnose you with those personality problems you have," America gibed.

Further bickering ensued between the two until Belarus cut in. "Stop with this foolish nonsense, I'm sure my brother is very tired after his journey coming here. Would you care for a drink, brother?" She offered the reluctant Ivan a drink.

"Don't do it, aru!" China yelled out. Belarus glared at him.

"Do it," Belarus encouraged Russia in a threatening voice.

"Don't, it's a love potion, aru!" China countered.

"Yao, do you want something _very_ terrifying to happen to your panda?" Belarus asked in a dark voice, glaring at China.

"Oh, it's alright sister," Russia chimed in. "I'm not thirsty anyway."

"_Yes,_ you are," insisted Belarus.

The rest of the meeting consisted of bickering, chase scenes, sorcery, and giant cauldrons. Also included was tortured stuffed panda.

***

At the first opportunity, England sent Russia, Italy, Germany, and Lancelot to look for the Holy Grail. It was the next part of the legend which would lead to the turning point of it all, and hopefully their return trip to the present.

"So, you go to the closest seashore and you'll find a boat waiting for you," England instructed the three countries and Lancelot.

"It's enchanted so don't freak out when it suddenly start sailing somewhere, because, no, it is not a ghost ship. It will take you to a palace and when you arrive you will meet King Pelles, the Fisher King. He's a sick man who you will cure in order to see the Grail uncovered. There will be two ladies at his side, one carries a spear and the other holds the Holy Grail. Touch the king (gently) with the spear to cure him and you will see the Grail uncovered, it will probably disappear again after you see it though. Then you all come back and tell us everything," he finished, reciting the basic background of the story from memory.

"Alright," said Germany (or Sir Bors as he was referred to in the presence of non-countries). "I think I got that all."

"Your Grace," Lancelot spoke up. "How did you know of the location of the Holy Grail?"

"Well you see, I had encountered it before," England then began to spin a knightly tale of his past encounter with the Grail. It took another fifteen minutes of England's time to tell the whole story. Five minutes into the tale, the other countries decided to listen in. The story included plenty of successful quests, slaying of beasts, chivalric behaviour, and pretty women.

"So in the end, I had to choose between my country and my quest. God had shown me through this quest that the Grail was not for me to achieve for I had a responsibility to my kingdom and my people. So I returned home to my loving people, who had welcomed me back despite my failure," England finished. Okay, so the story was the most truthful tale told but at least it would prevent any more awkward questions from Lancelot.

"That was amazing Eng— I mean, Your Grace," Italy said with awe. "I didn't know you had such a way with pretty women."

"Yeah, Your Grace," America added, chuckling. "I didn't know that either. You said that one woman _pined_ for you after you left, right?"

"Of course, I'm king aren't I," Arthur said, playing along. He could yell at America for that later. "Now you four go off and find the Grail." Everyone waved goodbye as the four rode off into the distance. England made everyone go back inside but America and France stayed behind to talk to him. Both looked ready to laugh in his face.

Indeed, when only the three of them where left outside the two burst out laughing immediately.

"Yeah, I know it was ridiculous but will you two stop laughing?" Arthur said, in a weak attempt to make them stop.

"Ridiculous? That's an understatement, right?" America scoffed. "I thought _I_ came up with some pretty outrageous stories. That was just..." he burst into another round of laughter before he could finish.

"I have to agree with_Amérique_ on this one, _mon cheri,_" France said, also laughing.

"Especially that part with a twenty-headed dragon..." America started.

"Who turned into a beautiful maiden after dear _Angleterre _killed it..." France continued.

"Then became alive once more after Iggy kissed her." America finished.

Another round of laughter followed. _'Enough is enough,'_ Arthur thought. He tripped America and France with his leg. The two fell on the grass.

"Iggy! What was that for?" America said, scowling.

"You two laugh too much. Do you take some sort of happy medication or something?" England retorted.

"Ah, _Angleterre,_ at least we actually posses the capacity to laugh, unlike some people," France countered as he stood up.

"Well, it's not my fault people used to tell stories like that, so don't blame me."

America stood up as well, "Wait, are you telling me that your whole _country_ tells tales as tall as that?"

"Well, around this period of time...yes," England said rather reluctantly, not looking forward to being teased again.

America actually looked amazed. "I never thought you had such ability in lying to people, Iggy. That's so cool."

"Hey, it's not _lying_. It's just...stretching the truth, that's all."

Neither America nor France bothered to argue anymore, so they went inside in silence. Once or twice, though, England thought he heard them murmuring and chuckling when they thought he wasn't looking.

***

After three days of questing, the four knights returned, with them came Greece, Belgium, and Ukraine. The knights looked accomplished: Italy was smiling with extra glee, Germany looked smug, and Russia was smiling innocently (as usual). Everyone that is, except for Lancelot.

'_In the legend, Lancelot never got to see the Grail because of his sinful affair with Guinevere, I guess that means things happened according to the legend,' _England thought.

People were eager to hear how the quest had gone so England called for an assembly of the members of the Round Table. Before the others had arrived, though, he let Greece, Belgium and Ukraine take a seat at the table to regain their memories. Though a bit confused, the three seemed to accept his explanation of them being in Camelot quite well.

When everyone was seated for the assembly, Germany started telling the tale, "Well, we started the mission, er, the quest by going to the seashore like you told us to and we found the ship you described, Your Grace. So we went aboard and the ship set sail immediately. Ital— uhm, Percival became quite terrified and attempted to jump aboard. We stopped him just in time but in the...brawl, he managed to cut one of the ropes tying the biggest sail."

"We were stopped in the middle of the ocean," Italy suddenly jumped in. "It was so scary. Russia, had to slap me twice to get me to stop stuttering and—"

"Wait, who's Russia?" Mordred suddenly asked.

"Oh, I meant Galahad," Italy corrected himself. "Sorry for the confusion. I often give my close friends nicknames, you see. I call him Russia because uhhh..."

"He's always in a rush," Germany finished Italy's statement for him. "He kept trying to make us hurry up. Yeah, that's it."

"So then we were all stuck in the ocean," Italy continued, "and we were really hungry, so I made pasta with the sea water, but it was all...salty. No one wanted to eat it."

"Yes, well, we were a bit stuck for a while but then Lancelot fixed the sail and we were on our way again," Germany said, getting to the important part. "We went into the castle and we saw the Fisher King," he nodded to Greece, who was asleep once again, "and the two maidens with him." He glanced at Belgium and Ukraine.

"The Fisher King was asleep so I just did what you said and touched him with the spear," Russia spoke up.

Italy looked at Russia suddenly and said, "Hey, Galahad, are you going to mention the part when you tried to hit the Fisher King's face with—"

"Silence," Russia suddenly had that dark aura again. "You will _not_ interrupt me."

"So-sorry Galahad," Italy stuttered.

"Anyway," Russia continued, smiling again. "We did what you told us and soon we got to see the Grail. It disappeared afterwards and we decided to head back. We recognized the Fisher King and the two maidens so I invited them to come back with us."

"Dragged," Germany whispered under his breath. Russia glared at him and Germany shut up immediately.

Everyone agreed that the success of the quest should be celebrated with a feast, so Arthur started the planning. He adjourned the assembly and waited before everyone exited before approaching the miserable Lancelot, who still hadn't left his seat.

"I noticed you didn't talk much about the quest," Arthur said politely. Lancelot rose, as custom dictated, to acknowledge the king.

"I...didn't really help much in its accomplishment, Your Grace," Lancelot answered.

"Ah, I see. From what I've heard, though, they wouldn't have been able to reach the Grail without you."

"That's nothing to what they have accomplished, Your Grace," Lancelot insisted.

"Alright, if you insist," Arthur conceded. He didn't know why, but he felt quite sorry for the man. He was trapped in this whole legend, destined to be a traitor to his king. It was not something England could envy him of. Arthur then left Lancelot to be alone and he hoped that the legend went according to plan.

***

_Legend Notes: England's instructions for the quest are really accurate according to the legend, though how things actually turned out with the countries was rather strange. _

_Author's Notes: Thanks, again, for reading everyone. Your support is very encouraging :)_


	9. Damsels?

Once again, every country in the castle was bustling with excitement, this time, for their first medieval feast. All the girl countries (and France) were trying on different dresses to see which they should wear for the coming event.

"I wanted the blue one," China, Japan, and England heard as they passed by Guinevere's room.

"But the _green _one suits you more Hungary!"

"The green one's mine."

"Excuse me, but can I have the purple one?"

"I sort-off wanted that one...but I guess I can use the pink."

"No! Give Taiwan the pink one so she'll give me the blue one."

"I _need _the blue one."

England was going to move on to ignore the noise when he heard masculine voices laughing at the other side of the door. Then there was sudden screaming and running around, then finally a thud.

"Did you just hear what I did?" England asked them.

"I think some of the guys are there, aru," China replied.

"I don't think it would be proper to barge into their business," Japan hastily said, but England was already opening the door. The scene that unfolded before him made him almost literally roll on the floor in laughter (though he didn't, of course). There, at the mercy of Hungary and Taiwan, were Francis, Alfred, and Prussia and they were wearing... dresses over their normal clothes. China and Japan followed to see what the fuss was all about.

"That...is _epic_," Arthur chuckled, trying to calm himself down.

"I agree," replied Japan. "That is quite an amusing scene.

"Panda! Hide your eyes, aru," China yelped, covering his panda's remaining eye (since the other one fell off during Belarus's torture session).

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Hungary asked, her hand slowly reaching out to grab her pot.

"England heard noises..." Japan started.

"But we were just leaving," England finished.

"I don't see why they just get to leave. All we did was laugh and you made us wear _dresses_. They were going to barge in while you were conducting private business," America complained.

"He has a point," Hungary thought aloud.

"The git most certainly does _not_ have a point," England tried to discourage Hungary, but it was too late. She already had that scary gleam in her eye. A few minutes later all six of them (plus the panda) were locked in Guinevere's room together, England, Japan and China tied to chairs with bed sheets.

"This is your fault, you prat," England snapped at America.

"Hey, it's not my fault you couldn't mind your own business, Iggy."

"Whatever, I hope you're happy," England resigned.

"Actually, I am," America replied.

"Aiyah! Will you two stop that arguing?" China suddenly snapped.

"Sorry Yao," America apologize. He untied Japan and China, who got off their chairs eagerly.

"Sorry," England mumbled, then, after another failed attempt to free himself from the chair he yelled out, "Alfred, bloody git, can you untie me now?"

"Why should I," was the reply.

"Do it, you twit, or so help me, I will—"

France sighed and interrupted England's threat, "You must, as they say, chill _Angleterre_. I will do it."

"I don't think so," England edged away from France, not wanting to risk having the pervert near him.

Prussia laughed, "Arthur is picky."

"I agree," intoned Japan.

"Get your own opinion, aru," China said to Japan.

"But it is true. England-san has always had a preference to America," Japan just replied coolly.

"I do not!" England yelled. "Someone just get me of this bloody chair already."

"I'll do it, Iggy. Just because you admitted preferring me to France like a good damsel-in-distress," America cheerfully went to untie England.

"I am not a damsel and I am most certainly _not_ in distress," England huffed.

America stopped mid-way of finishing the job. "Well then, I guess you don't need me."

"Fine, fine, I need your help so be the hero and untie me," England surrendered.

America just looked at him expectantly.

"_Please,_" Arthur added desperately.

"Well, you asked really politely so I guess I'll save you," America said with fake reluctance.

England bit his tongue until he was untied. As soon as he was freed, he jumped up and aimed his fist at America who quickly tackled him before he could accomplish anything.

"Will you stop _tackling_ me," Arthur grumbled, mumbling curses under his breath.

"It was for your protection, punching my jaw would've broken your fist," Alfred laughed, getting up as well.

"Well, I'm sorry. I didn't know you had rock hard bones like a werewolf," England rolled his eyes in sarcasm.

"I was thinking of Superman, actually, but that works. You'd be the seventeen-year old brunette who always needs saving," America smugly threw the statement back at England.

"_Mon cheri, _can you two stop talking about that vampire love story and think of ways to get us all out of here?" France asked England in a tired (yet still irritating) tone. "You two can have that veiled flirtation session later."

England was about to protest when America said, "Alright, let's get out of here."

"I think it's locked, dudes," Prussia said before Alfred could even turn the knob.

"You're right. We need to crash ourselves into it then," America deduced, getting ready to run his shoulder into the door. The other four reluctantly readied themselves as well. England didn't have time to tell them how ridiculous the plan was because they pulled him into position as well.

"On three. One, two, three!" yelled America and they charged. The door shook as their combined forces crashed into it, but the door didn't open.

"Ow, ow, ow," America whined, rubbing his shoulder.

"That was a stupid plan, aru," China commented, limping a bit from the pain of his shoulder.

"Stupid is an understatement, Yao," England snapped, wondering how he had gotten into another mess with America. Just then, the door knob turned and the door opened revealing Germany, Austria, and a bouncy Italy.

"Bro, you saved us!" Prussia gratefully hugged his brother who had a puzzled look on his face. After awkwardly getting his brother to stop hugging him, Germany asked, "We heard some noises from this room, what were you doing here?"

"It was Roderich's crazy girlfriend," Prussia replied before anyone else could. "Man," Gilbert turned to Austria, "she's insane. She locked us in."

"You offending Elizabeta is none of my business Gilbert," Austria said in an apathetic voice.

"Funny," said Germany. "The door wasn't locked when I opened it."

"Hey," Italy cut in. "Is this a party? I want to join, I want to join. Are you serving pasta?"

Japan sighed, "No, Italy, this is not a party. We got stuck here because we had presumed that the door was locked before we even tried to open it."

"Oh," Italy said, looking rather sad.

"Come on then Italy," Germany told the disappointed Italian. "We'll get you some food."

"But it's all _English_ food," Italy complained.

"Hey," England said loudly, glaring at Feliciano. The scared Italy quickly exited the room, fearing an attack from England once again.

"Feliciano!" Germany called out. Sighing wearily, he ran after the Italian followed by Prussia, Austria and his ally, Japan. China, feeling rather tired of being with America, England, France and their constant arguing, got his panda and also left.

As usual, the three found another thing to argue about. England refused to get France a new dress and had one of his usual spats with America until they finally parted to finish their own preparations for the feast.

***

The day of the big event finally arrived and the night was filled with lavish decorations, costumes and food (this time, even Italy couldn't complain about it). England sat at the head of the table with America and the 'Orkney brothers' at his left but the places of honor on his right for Lancelot and Queen Guinevere were empty. None of the countries really cared about the absence of France and his new amour, but plenty of the legend's characters found this rather suspicious. Mordred and Agravain for example...

"Your Grace, my brother and I noticed that the queen and Lancelot are absent from the feast," Mordred approached England during the middle of the feast.

"Yes, I see that," England said simply, pretending not to understand where they were getting to.

"Your Grace, we have good reason to believe that the queen is with Sir Lancelot right now."

"That's good, you two can fetch them both for me," Arthur replied.

"We also have good reason to believe, Your Grace," Mordred continued, getting to the point, "that Queen Guinevere has been unfaithful."

"Your proof?" he asked, looking them straight in the eye just to intimidate them.

"We can show you, Your Grace."

"Fine," England said after a moment of false hesitation. "C'mon Kai, you're coming with us."

America reluctantly got up. England had explained to him that he would be the one to arrest Lancelot and Guinevere. They went to the palace gardens and England saw the sight he had expected. Guinevere and Lancelot were caught red handed and was quickly charged with adultery. Francis took all of this rather calmly, knowing what was to come. Lancelot had been banished and Guinevere was to be burned at stake.

England had visited Guinevere in 'her' prison from time to time. Francis was pretty much alright there, despite the fact that the prison rooms 'are filthier than _Anglettere's _house after a Christmas drinking session'. England was also secretly pleased that he could torture France like this without being judged.

***

On the day of Guinevere's execution, Canada and Hong Kong came running back to the palace saying that Lancelot had kidnapped Guinevere.

"That's good," England said.

"Now what?" America asked.

"Now, we get him back," England said pleasantly.

"What? After we go through all that trouble trying to get him kidnapped..."

"Pretty much," England replied.

"And you say _I'm_ hard to understand," America sighed.

"Well if you remembered the legend then maybe you won't be so clueless," England replied.

He wasted no time in getting the countries ready to leave the palace. They departed with the premise of chasing after Guinevere but in truth, England was baiting Mordred to try and usurp his throne.

***

_ AN: Yeah, the last part of the chapter is rushed. Also, I am not a fan of Twilight. I just thought it would be funny for America to mention it. Sorry it's so late. I've been busy._


	10. I Don't Want You to Go

The search for Guinevere and Lancelot would have taken weeks if England didn't already know where to find them. He knew where they would find Lancelot's family's palace so all that was left to do was to travel in the right direction for a couple of days. Most of the younger nations though, were not used to travelling in the heat and sleeping outdoors for two consecutive days. There was much complaining all throughout the journey. America, for one, took it upon himself to ask 'are we there yet?' every thirty minutes, which Arthur learned to ignore after the fifteenth time.

When they finally arrived at Lancelot's palace, he decided to approach him in a friendly way. He started by asking for him politely at the drawbridge, then letting Italy wave his white flag as a sign of peace (not surrender, mind you). Soon, Lancelot came out with a few men, looking quite fearsome of Arthur's non-existent wrath.

"Peace, Lancelot," England greeted diplomatically. "I come in peace."

To his surprise, Lancelot suddenly fell on his knees, begging for forgiveness. "I do not deserve such kindness from Your Grace, whom I have defied. Please know that I only did it for the love of your wife. I couldn't allow her to be killed."

England felt sorry for the man, torn by his loyalty to the king and his love for...France. He felt like he owed him an explanation, "I was never going to kill her you know."

Lancelot just looked at him and replied, "I hope Your Grace doesn't think me an idiot."

"No, honestly, I had known about your affair with her ever since it started."

"H-how?" he asked in terror.

"The queen told me and I permitted it," England replied, then seeing the disbelief on Lancelot's face added, "Have you ever actually seen me displaying even a hint of affection for her? No, I don't love her like you do."

"T-then... why? Why did you sentence her to burn at stake?"

"I suspected that Mordred was planning to take over my throne and I needed a premise to draw him out. We knew you would rescue Guinevere and so we used you as an excuse. I...apologize for not telling you earlier."

"Ah, I see," Lancelot said in a daze. France chose that very moment to join them, "What is going on, _mes amis._"

"Guinevere," Lancelot said in panic, "you were supposed to stay inside."

"You overprotective fool," France replied playfully. "You know they won't hurt me."

"Well of _course_ we won't. Haven't you heard a single word I said, Lancelot? I'm not repeating that apology again, just so you know," England short-temperedly cut in.

With Guinevere's convincing, Lancelot believed Arthur's explanation and even offered to lend them his palace meeting room. America checked the countries in their company and concluded that all those who attended the story-telling day were present and perfectly sane. This provided Arthur with some relief but he couldn't stop worrying about the battle ahead of them.

When everyone was settled, he began the discussion of his battle plan...if that's what you called it. "So, the last thing we have to do to get home is to defeat Mordred who has probably already assembled an army to fight us with. I believe they're going to meet us somewhere near this river," he pointed at the said river on his map, "to block us from reaching the palace. Here's the plan: all of you distract his army somehow, long enough for me to knock Mordred out and drag him to a place where we can fight one on one. Then, when he's killed, Yao can throw my sword in the river and we'll all be safely home. Does anyone have any questions?"

"Uhhm, yeah," America said, raising his hand as if they were in a classroom. England nodded in his direction and he asked, "Why are you the only one who actually gets to fight Mordred?"

"That is because the rest of you know nothing about English swordplay, also that is what the legend explicitly states. Next!"

"But I have another question," America complained.

"Yes, yes," England replied, thinking he knew what America wanted to ask. "You are in charge of the distracting. It's a pretty big job so don't mess it up."

"That's great, Iggy, but that's not what I wanted to ask," America mumbled in a strangely soft voice.

"You can ask me later then," England just said.

"Jerk England," Sealand called from the other end of the table. "Can I help distract too?"

Arthur sighed, "No Peter, your parents and I have agreed that it's way too dangerous."

"That's so unfair! Raivis gets to go and so do the girl countries. You just don't want to acknowledge me as a knight because you're a jerk."

"Whatever reasons you tell yourself are perfectly fine with me. Just stay out of their way," England replied apathetically.

After some more arguing with Sealand and answering a few more questions (some of which were quite stupid), England adjourned the meeting and went off to thank Lancelot for letting them use his meeting room. He wasn't even out of the room yet when America called after him, running to catch up.

"What is it now, America?" England asked wearily.

"You told me I could ask my question, Iggy," America replied, still in that small, soft voice he had used earlier. Something, clearly, was on his mind.

"Ask away," England said, curious to hear his question.

"In the legend, I remember something about a battle..."

"And?" looking at America.

"In that battle...does Arthur die?" America asked, not meeting England's gaze.

"Not until after he kills Mordred," England reassured him. "Why?"

"Iggy, are you going to have to die? You know, to finish the legend."

England now understood America's concern. He chose his words carefully before replying, "I'm...hoping not but I think that's going to be the only way to...get you all back home."

America's reaction stunned England: the younger nation had grabbed him by the shoulders and started shaking him saying, "No, no, no! England you _can't_ get yourself killed! I won't let you!"

"Alfred," England said in a shaky voice. "Please, be...reasonable. It's the only way."

"It can't be, Iggy! It just can't," America replied, angrily. "I thought these fairies were your friends. How could they let this happen?"

"I think, to them, this is how I'm going to get that respect they think I deserve. I-I'm sure they won't really..." England drifted off, not feeling very sure himself.

"Well I'm not allowing it, Iggy. I'm not letting you fight that guy on your own."

"You are going to _have _to. Do you think the other nations going to like staying here all their lives? No, they aren't."

"They'll _live_ with it!"America countered. "You aren't dying under my watch."

"I thought you of all people would understand, Alfred! Surely getting you all home will be the greater good and I'll just have to _sacrifice_ myself for that. I thought heroes understood that concept."

"But...Iggy," America just said in a helpless voice. "I don't want you to go." England looked at him and saw tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Unbidden, memories of his tiny colony filled his thoughts once again. 'Didn't he say those words to me when I would go back to Europe?'

England didn't know what else he could do so he simply placed his arm around the younger nation and tried to comfort him as best as he could. "It will all turn out all right, Alfred," England assured him, as if America just had a nightmare.

America, though, was no longer a naive young colony and he couldn't be fooled that easily. He could see the fear in the Englishman's eyes and he understood that Arthur was just as helpless and confused as he was. He didn't say another word though, for fear that he would just be overcome by tears.

***

After England managed to convince Lancelot that they wouldn't need any more of his help and that Guinevere would be safe in their hands, the countries departed to meet Mordred's army near the river. The thought of another journey on the road did not sit well with the countries, but they just had to bear with it. They also used every opportunity to meet and discuss distraction strategies. England had to teach Belarus how to create light in a bottle with her magic to use as an extra distraction, one could only hope that she wouldn't use it for other unspeakable purposes.

England also noticed that America was acting less like an idiot with each passing minute. He couldn't decide whether this was just because America was tired of all the travelling or because the younger nation was still worried about him.

America seemed to be applying himself in every way, coming up with plans that even England couldn't criticize. It almost made him look...like a mature leader. He also spent every spare moment helping Arthur, as if he were trying to make up for all his past transgressions against the Brit. England couldn't bring himself to complain of Alfred's unending company and found that he actually appreciated it.

When they were only a day from the site of the 'battle', America held a meeting so that the countries could go over their plan and check if everything was ready.

"So, do you have those loud horns I asked you to buy?" America asked Prussia who nodded and gave him a thumbs-up.

"What about those snakes you were gathering?" America turned to Germany who replied with an affirmative salute.

"Are you sure they aren't poisonous?"

Germany shrugged, "Does it really matter? We're not unleashing them on ourselves." America just raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a look so serious that it made Germany add, "But, yeah, I guess they're all pretty harmless."

"Good. Iggy, what about that sunlight in a bottle? Can Belarus do it by herself, already?"

"Unfortunately," England muttered, not liking the idea of sharing magical knowledge to Belarus.

"That's a good thing," assured America, not even acknowledging the fact that the last statement was a joke. "So I guess the plan is all set then. We'll go ahead with the distraction and meet up with England after the enemy is dead." Everyone gave their signs of approval but America only looked at England.

"Iggy...are you sure you won't change your part of the plan?" America asked softly.

England wanted to glare at him, like he would usually do when America dared challenge him, but for some reason he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he answered in a harsh voice, "No Alfred, and can you please stop asking me?"

"Just checking," Alfred said in a shy voice, donning a sad smile.

"Well you can stop checking because I'm not changing my decision," England replied angrily, taking his confusion and anger out on Alfred.

"Iggy..."

"No, Alfred, I will not calm down. How the heck am I supposed to fulfill this bloody legend if you're always hounding me? Just bugger off about it already," England practically shouted in frustration.

The rest of the countries just looked at them in confusion, not knowing what they were talking about. "_Angleterre_, what are you two talking about?" France asked.

"It's none of your bloody business, Francis," England snapped.

"Iggy, I was just asking, okay?" America reassured in a soft voice, with an expression that made England want to melt in a puddle of guilt. "You don't need to pay attention to me."

"Oh, whatever," England just yelled, using America to have a reason to lash out the anger he had been keeping bottled-up inside of him. Arthur then chose this time to make a dramatic exit, stomping inside the travelling tent he had been sharing with Alfred and Francis (how they became his roommates was something he didn't understand himself) the previous night camping out. He knew he would have to apologize to America later on, but he didn't want to think about that just now.

***

America stood there with the rest of the countries, in stunned silence. Iggy had never reacted so violently for something so small before. He understood how angry England was probably feeling right now, heck, he felt it himself but he never wanted to see England's anger directed at him. Confused by this whole predicament, America ignored the other nations' questions and left mumbling, "I'm going for a walk."

Five hours later, America returned from his long walk and went straight into his tent, ready to fall asleep and forget the events of the day. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he was happy to see that Francis wasn't anywhere inside the tent, that would prevent some awkward questions. Iggy was, apparently, asleep on his own mat. America lay down on his own mat and tried to get rid of his misery by falling asleep.

Before he could even close his eyes though, he heard England whisper beside him, "Alfred?"

"Yeah, Iggy?" America replied, trying to sound casual and cheerful.

"I'm sorry about...earlier. I really didn't mean to take it out on you," England said slowly. "It's just...I don't want to remember what I have to do and..." he trailed off.

"It's alright, Iggy," America replied. "I'm just really worried..."

"Yeah, me too."

"But if you need me, I'm always ready to help. Like the hero I am, you know?"

"Sure Alfred but all I really need you to do is to make sure that everybody gets home."

There were a few moments of silence.

"I hate those fairies so much right now," England muttered, as if to himself.

"Yeah," agreed Alfred. "Give them all a hit on the head for me next time you see them, alright?"

England chuckled. "Do you want them to curse me or something?"

"Psssh, who cares about them? You have Harry Potter on your side."

"Very funny Alfred," England said, failing to sound sarcastic.

The two friends talked well into the night, in a comfortable companionship both of them had missed.

***

_AN: The climax is coming! Hope you all liked this chapter, so many USUK moments. Thanks for reading._


	11. The Fight

_AN: Sorry this is so serious and late :). Er, possible character death and a swordfighting scene. Almost at the end, thanks for reading all the way! :D _

***

The nations set up their 'base camp' for the battle in a well hidden area, covered with trees, not too far from Mordred's army. They got their distractions ready, talking to relieve the tension and worry related to the upcoming battle. Though, to tell the truth, some conversations were less successful than others.

"Hey, do you know that these big horns originated from Korea?" the said country bragged, looking at the horn Germany was holding.

"Uhuh, sure," Ludwig just replied, paying no attention whatsoever.

Sealand was moping around Latvia, complaining in a loud voice (about not being able to join the action) so that England would hear. "It's just so _unfair_ Raivis! Jerk England won't let me do _anything _fun." Before Raivis could reply, though, Sweden came and started reprimanding Sealand for not respecting their decisions. England came by in time to enjoy the whole scene get Sealand's tongue stuck out at him.

"We're supposed to touch those things?" Taiwan shrieked looking at the many snakes Germany and some of the other countries had gathered.

"Yeah, isn't it great," Hungary replied with a smile.

"Eeep! No!"

Hungary only replied by grabbing a snake by the tail and bringing it close to Taiwan's face, making her shriek all the more. The chaos between the two did not stop until Japan came and grabbed the snake out of Hungary's hands, which resulted in him getting chased with a giant pot.

"Alfred!" Canada yelled upon returning from his assigned mission. They had sent Canada a few minutes ago to check if Mordred's army had already started moving, apparently from the look on Matthew's face, the answer was affirmative.

Without even waiting for Matthew to give his report, Alfred gathered all the countries around to start positioning them for the distraction. Most of the countries would circle Mordred's army from afar and start blowing on their horns to make the enemy believe that they would be outnumbered.

If that failed to cause sufficient amount of chaos to abduct Mordred then the rest of the countries (except Sealand) would lob snakes at the enemy army. America had made sure that they weren't the harmful kind to assure that England wouldn't be hindered to complete his task in any way.

Just to be safe, they would also throw the magical bottled lights, that Belarus and England started mass-producing, at the enemy to blind them while England accomplished his task.

When the horn-blowers were positioned and ready to blow ("what a pun America, you git"), America and England started doing a last recap of the most vital part of the plan.

"So, we blow the horns and you'll sneak quietly into their ranks from around the bushes—" Alfred thought aloud only to be interrupted by Arthur.

"Yes, I _know_ Alfred," England said wearily. "I'll knock him out using a spell I know of and if that doesn't work, I'll hit him with the broad end of my sword. Then, I'll drag him to the riverside where we will commence fighting when he wakes up."

"Good. Are you sure you don't need help sneaking up on them?" America asked with concern.

"Alfred, I was a pirate dabbling in illegal trade, naval battles, and ambushes even before you were _discovered_. What makes you think I can't do the simple task of _sneaking_?"

"Just making sure...and, oh, Iggy," America said awkwardly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm keeping my promise: I'm not letting you get hurt. When we're finished here we'll come and help."

There was a momentary pause before England answered softly, "I'll be counting on that."

"Any time you're ready," Switzerland stood beside America, interrupting the conversation before Alfred could reply.

"Right. Get ready, Iggy. Italy, give the signal!"Alfred yelled. In response, Italy held up his white flag (extended on a really long stick). America was pretty sure that the enemies wouldn't see the flag being raised because it is quite hard to notice if one isn't looking for it, unlike the countries.

The loud sound of horns blowing overwhelmed the battle field, Mordred's men started yelling and readying their weapons in confusion.

"I'm off," England said, already prepared to do his task.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait until we throw the snakes?"

"Yes, bloody git, I can take care of myself," England snapped.

"All right then," America gave in. "Good luck, Iggy."

"You too," England nodded, his green eyes meeting the American's. It seemed to Alfred that Arthur's gaze conveyed the words he would not say, the goodbye that neither of them could ever bring themselves to utter.

***

Arthur crept as quietly as he could towards the enemy army, the experience strangely reminded him of his days as a pirate. Sneaking up on the enemy gave him a certain thrill of excitement he hadn't experienced in a long time. So far so good, no one had noticed him yet. He stopped and crouched behind the bushes as the front lines of the army passed by him. The horns did not confuse them much. Actually, it only signalled to them that it was the time to fight.

The middle part of Mordred's army was already passing by his position and England thought it was safe enough to stand and try to blend in with the troops. Only, that didn't work as well as he had hoped.

"It's an enemy soldier," some of Mordred's knights yelled as they spotted him.

"Oh shoot," England murmured, diving to the ground to avoid the arrows they aimed at him. It wouldn't be long before they actually started chasing him.

***

America passed his hand over his face. That was the most idiotic mistake he had ever seen England make, only it wasn't funny. "Throw the snakes," he yelled at the other countries, all of whom wasted no time getting rid of the wriggly, slimy creatures. Alfred could only hope that this would distract Mordred's troops long enough.

Watching the enemies panic over a bunch of harmless snakes was a hilarious sight but what made America amused was the fact that Mordred was turning back, abandoning his army, and heading straight to where England was now hiding. It would be the perfect time for England to ambush him.

America watched carefully as Mordred's horse stopped in fright and galloped away in panic, throwing his rider unto the ground. America squinted and he managed to see England drag an unconscious Mordred away from the battle field.

America willed himself to concentrate on the battle, only when the enemy army had completely retreated would they be able to go and help England.

***

England muttered the awakening spell with his hands hovering over Mordred's unconscious form. He stepped away as Mordred regained consciousness, moaning as he rubbed his head. When the non-country caught sight of England, he suddenly scrambled to stand up and raise his sword.

England, recalling years of training, got out his sword as well. In wordless agreement, they both faced each other in fighting stance.

"You were a coward not to kill me while I lay helpless," Mordred taunted him as they circled one another.

England just shrugged, not rising to the bait, "It wasn't in the chivalric code."

"Cowardly, all the same."

"Let's get this over with already," England responded but before he could even finish the sentence Mordred had already come charging at him.

Thus, the battle began.

***

"Are they retreating yet?"

"No," Switzerland answered. "They're panicking but they won't leave."

"All right," answered America. "Get the horn blowers back here so we can stick together. Belarus," he turned this time to the brooding country behind him, "get ready to do your magic, literally that is."

Belarus nodded, gathering all her bright lights around her. When all the countries were accounted for, America gave Belarus the signal to fire. Natalia threw the first tiny bottle. All the countries turned away from the blinding light.

America could only focus on the voices of the enemy soldiers yelling, "Witchcraft." He listened closely to any word of retreat but there was none. He gave Belarus the signal to fire another.

***

England's fighting instinct made his block to Mordred's attack almost a reflex. Arthur flinched at the sound of metal hitting metal as he momentarily calculated his next move. Their swords parted as they both raced to gather enough momentum to swing their swords and strike the other first.

England's decades of training came back to him this time it was Mordred who had to block. The next few exchanges happened so fast that England didn't even have time to think, his hand seemed to know more about what he was doing than he did.

Block. Block. Swing. England struggled to gain the upper hand with powerful blows but each one was avoided by Mordred. A particularly forceful clash of their swords distracted England long enough for Mordred to attempt a stab at him. England only had time to turn to the side and avoid the blade.

As Mordred's sword stabbed at air, Arthur used the side of his sword to hit Mordred's side. England could only imagine that it felt like being bitten by a whip, to have the cold metal collide with your skin. Mordred gasped holding his side with his other hand while his sword was still at the ready.

"You're not giving up yet?" England asked, hoping that they didn't really have to do this.

"No," Mordred growled removing his arm from his side and taking another swing at England.

England swore as he managed to raise his sword up barely in time. Their blades met once again but now, Mordred did not pull his away. England could feel his enemy forcing both their swords towards him so that the two blades were coming down on his side, threatening to take a slice out of him. England pushed back with all his strength, trying to outdo his opponent so he could part their swords without getting hurt.

Suddenly, Mordred pulled his sword away, avoiding England's own blade which now had nothing to push against. England stumbled forward with the force of his own pushing and Mordred's blade struck a glancing blow at England's leg.

Arthur stumbled as he felt his flesh getting cut. The warm blood came out of the wound almost immediately, the pain blocking out the rest of England's senses. He couldn't even feel how deep the wound was through all the pain.

England struggled to pull himself up quickly before Mordred could strike again, blocking weakly when he did.

'Alfred is coming soon,' he thought. 'Alfred is coming soon.' Deep inside, though, he knew Alfred wouldn't be able to come in time.

***

"Alfred, they're retreating!" Matthew called out as the other countries cheered as silently as their enthusiasm would allow.

"Are you sure?" Alfred asked, still cautious. Matthew nodded and America looked to check for himself. Canada was right, they were retreating. Rather in a hurry too.

Alfred couldn't afford to let himself relax. He had to get to England, and as soon as the enemies were really gone he would do just that. He watched carefully until every last soldier was galloping away. "Come on, let's help England!" he yelled to all the other countries who were still celebrating their victory. They all looked at him, stunned.

He had already started running to the riverside when he realized that they weren't following him. "Well, what are you waiting for? We have to get to Iggy," he called out, almost irritably.

"What's your hurry _Amérique_? I'm sure _Angleterre_ has also achieved victory," France replied, his arm around a nervous looking Seychelles.

"Francis, can you just shut up for once and listen to me? Iggy, _needs_ us."

"I don't know what your hurry is America," Sealand said, finally allowed to join them. "England's probably on his way back now. He said he could handle that part on his own."

"No! Arg, I don't have time for this," America said hurriedly, torn between anger and nervousness. He broke into a run for the riverside.

"Alfred!" Canada's voice called. Alfred heard Matthew's footsteps following him and a few reluctant others doing the same. Soon the whole world was following him. America tried to keep his mind on the positive side.

'I'll get there on time, I'll be the hero, Iggy is okay,' he repeated to himself, as if it was his mantra. He caught sight of Mordred and England fighting and for a second he stood there, mesmerized to see England defend himself so well, using a sword with such skill. He looked a bit more closely and thought he saw England limping a bit. He shook himself back to the present and started running again, determined to keep his Iggy safe.

America heart froze as he saw a furious exchange of blows between the two fighters but he relaxed again when he saw England come out unscathed, pulling his sword from Mordred's stabbed side. He looked at Mordred and saw him clutching his bleeding wound.

***

'Is this victory?' England thought, feeling puzzled and wary at the same time. A few moments of the frozen scene and the silence seemed to assure England that he was safe.

He allowed relief to wash over him and he lowered his sword. In the times of the real King Arthur, it would've been unacceptable to let your guard down even if your enemy was dying. 'If your enemy is alive,' people then used to say, 'then he's still dangerous.'

These words played in England's head but he chose to ignore them, basking in this one moment of relief.

Sadly, it only took that one moment for the tide to change.

***

For a few seconds, America genuinely believed that they had achieved victory. He silently cheered for England and was, for once, glad that he wasn't needed. In that one moment of relief, America slowed and watched the enemy slowly loose strength at the hands of the victorious Arthur.

In that one moment, time seemed to slow as he watched Mordred lash out with the last of his strength and drive his sword into Arthur's stomach. Now two men were lying helplessly at the riverside, bleeding to death.

It took America another precious moment to take the whole scene in. Even as he raced to England's side, he still couldn't believe it.

***

"Iggy! Iggy!" America yelled, shaking England in panic.

"America?"

"Yeah?" America asked breathlessly.

"Is he dead?" England said in a whisper.

Germany walked over to the enemy and checked his pulse. "He's dead."

England sighed in half pain, half relief, "Then I've done my job."

"Iggy, stop talking like that!" America yelled. Tears started blurring his vision but he blinked them away so he could see England's face.

"Stop shouting in my ear, you git," England reprimanded, but there was no anger in his voice, only a tone an affectionate fathering tone.

More countries gathered around him, asking both of them questions in a fearful voice. Their questions rang in America's head along with some of his own. _You knew this would happen? Is England going to die? Why couldn't you save him?_

"Iggy, you're going to be okay, right?" he asked like a small boy looking for comfort.

"I'm not sure Alfred, but I'm glad you're here," Arthur replied in a soft but satisfied voice.

"I'm so sorry, Iggy," America whispered, starting to sob. "I'm so sorry I—"

"Don't be, Alfred. You did everything you could and..." England's voice faded away as his eyes started to close. America had to shake him back into consciousness before he completely slipped away.

"Tell Yao to throw my sword into the river so that the legend will be over and done with," England said with the last ounce of his strength.

Without having to be told directly, Yao took the sword gingerly from England's side and threw it into the river.

The world started to swirl around the countries but for England, everything was simply fading into the darkness.


	12. Rediscovery

_Yeah, this chapter is very late but don't worry, I have the next one all written and ready for my editing. I'll post it when I'm done. This isn't my best chapter (it's the second to the last one, by the way) but I hope you all like it anyway. *mumbles* the next one is so much better. Thanks again for everyone who supported this. _

***

When the world stopped spinning, it took a few seconds for America to realize that they were back in the present. To be precise, they were back in the very same room this had all started in the very same clothes they had been wearing. It was as if nothing had changed, at least that was what Alfred thought before he noticed England on the floor, still bleeding.

While the other countries were still trying to make sense of it all, Alfred wasted no time getting out his phone and calling the emergency number at the White House for government employees. England was a country, so taking him to a normal doctor would just result in awkward questions.

He knelt at England's side and took of his jacket, pressing it to the wound as he gently applied pressure. Arthur's chest was still rising and falling ever so slightly but if he didn't act fast enough that could change as well. _I'm not going to fail you this time, _he thought as he waited for someone to answer the other line.

Finally, someone answered. "Hello?" Alfred asked immediately.

"You have reached a government—"

"Quick Fred," Alfred recognized the dispatcher's voice. "I need an ambulance at my current location ASAP."

"Who is this?"

"It's Alfred. How soon can you send that ambulance?"

"Alfred F. Jones?"

"Yes, who else could it be, just get me the bloody ambulance," Alfred yelled. Did he just use the word 'bloody'? It's a symptom of spending too much time with England, perhaps? No time to think about that now...

"Alright, alright," the voice at the other end of the line asked. "You're still at that international event, right?"

"Yeah."

"What's the nature of the incident?"

"It's a stab wound, there's severe bleeding."

"You're bleeding?

"No! Arthur's bleeding. Just get the ambulance," Alfred snapped impatiently.

"The ambulance will be there in approximately three minutes," Fred replied hastily.

"That's good. Should I try moving him to the entrance of the building?"

"Is he conscious?"

"No."

"Then don't even try, just attempt to stop the bleeding somehow. You can try stopping the blood flow near the puncture site."

"Right," America just replied, wondering which of the countries knew anything about first aid. He ended the call without even saying goodbye to the dispatcher, motioning for the other countries to come and help.

They had just woken up from their sleeps, wondering if it was all a dream. America had been spared that confusion since his mind was too preoccupied thinking of England and hoping for his safety.

Switzerland stepped in and attempted to stop the flow of blood by pressing his finger and applying pressure to the closest major artery. America left him to it. Switzerland was the origin of Red Cross after all. It helped some but England was still bleeding profusely. Many of the other nations were gathering around panicking, like Sealand who was now trying to shake Arthur awake. America had to call Sweden to stop the boy from trying to slap England conscious.

Some, though, were genuinely giving their best to help. Even France was contributing, trying to control the crowd of countries so that England could actually have air to breath. It rather disturbed America, though, that Francis was dissuading them by threatening to strip.

After the three minutes of wait, which had seemed too long for America, the ambulance finally arrived. The paramedics were led in by Hungary and Austria, carrying a stretcher they would be using to carry England.

They tried to move Arthur as little as possible as the loaded him unto the stretcher. America helplessly followed, along with the rest of the nations, not sure what he could do to help his friend now.

England was carried into the ambulance while the paramedics started asking questions. Alfred couldn't help but feel relieved that he was familiar with the ambulance crew. They had brought him to the ER before when he accidentally tripped and sliced his forehead while running around the White House grounds (long story). They were fully aware of the nation-status of everyone present, being private employees of the government and all.

"What happened to him, Alfred?" one of them asked him.

"It's hard to explain. Nation business," Alfred replied laconically.

"I don't think anyone can count the number of emergencies you countries get on 'nation business'."

"It comes with the job."

"Right. Well, just to get our facts straight. The patient is Arthur Kirkland, representing England of the United Kingdom, correct?"

Alfred nodded. "Correct."

"The patient has suffered from severe bleeding for around three minutes now, losing a lot of blood in the process. Correct?"

"Technically," Alfred answered, unsure how to explain the time shift.

"All right! We're ready to go," another paramedic called out.

"I'm going with you," Alfred told them, already climbing into the ambulance. "I can elaborate further on the nature of the accident."

"I want to come," Sealand yelled, breaking from his foster parent's grasps. "I'm his brother. I have a right to come...or something like that anyway."

Alfred knew they didn't have time to argue, "Fine, you come along as well. Everyone else, you can follow in your own vehicles." A few countries nodded in agreement, others were still too panicky to respond. It was a lot to take in, after all, that that wild adventure actually happened and that it was very possible that England could die after all this. America tried not to think of those things but he could find no other way to distract himself in the cramped ambulance.

Once or twice, Peter tried to strike up a conversation but Alfred had only responded with a nod. That is one difference between the two of them; Sealand tries to hide his misery by acting like everything's normal while Alfred stays silent, thoughts racing.

When they finally arrived, England was rushed to the ER. America and Sealand were not allowed to enter the room so they had to stay in the large waiting room. There were a few others there and Alfred couldn't help but wonder how many of them were waiting to see if their loved ones would come out alive.

Time passed slowly for Alfred. He could hardly bear his first thirty minutes of waiting. He resolved so ask about England as soon as someone came out of the ER. A few minutes later, a nurse did.

"Excuse me," America approached her with the most charming smile he could manage at the moment. "I just need to know if my friend, Mr. Kirkland is alright."

The nurse just looked at him apologetically, "I'm sorry but I don't really have the authority to inform you."

America was about to insist when the ER door opened again. Alfred recognized the doctor who had been treating his 'nation business' injuries the past few years. America turned away from the nurse and headed toward him.

"England?" he asked without preamble.

"He's lost a lot of blood. The stab wound didn't seem to pierce any of his vital organs, or his kidneys. We've managed to stop the bleeding but his condition isn't as stable as we hoped. We're going to have to perform a blood transfusion."

"When will you operate?"

"As soon as the donated blood gets here," the doctor replied.

"So, is England safe?" America asked. He wanted the answers he had been waiting for, to finally feel reassurance.

"If the blood transfusion works then...probably," the doctor just replied. America couldn't hide his relief but he still could not allow himself to relax. False hope wasn't really an option.

"'Probably' isn't good enough doc. What are the risks?"

"We aren't sure of the complete extent of the injuries; there was only enough time to perform a visual examination. There will be a more thorough check later on. There is also the possibility that the blood we'll transfuse won't be compatible with his system, what with your complicated natures of being countries and all. It is the only thing we can really do though because—"

"Yeah, okay, I get it," America interrupted him. "Please just tell me when the transfusion is done."

The doctor nodded and re-entered the ER. America sat back down on his chair beside Sealand. _There is hope, _he thought trying to ignore the risks the doctor mentioned. Alfred promised not to let himself get too emotional, though, at least until he was sure of England's condition.

***

_England was lying down on a field of soft green grass, lazing around and playing with the fairies. What else was he to do all day? Scotland would probably scold him later for being so useless to his kingdom but he would go through that nagging any day. He'd do anything to feel such a satisfying bliss. _

_ The relaxing atmosphere and the soft hum of fairy wings made his eyes want to close. A few minute's nap wouldn't do anyone any harm, right? He fell asleep as soon as his eyelids had close. _

_ "Wake up, Arthur," a small voice called. He felt something trying to shake him awake._

_ "Wake up!" the voice repeated, growing more urgent. He got up with a start._

_ "Wha—?"_

_ "The king is dead," the fairy sobbed. _

_ "Huh?" Arthur asked helplessly. He couldn't believe it. His king, dead? Impossible, his king was Arthur Pendragon himself!_

_ "Come on, Arthur," they called, pulling him with their combined strength. The dragged his dazed self over the hill to the other side where a lone, white marble coffin lay. _

_ They brought him up to it and he struggled to see through his tears and at his dead king's face through the coffin's glass lid. _

Only, the face he saw was not that of his king but his own. Like waking up from a dream, Arthur's memories resurfaced, the peaceful bliss was lost. The adventure was over and now he was..._dead_? How else could he explain seeing himself in a coffin? Maybe this was all just a near-death experience or it could even be the afterlife.

"Aren't you going to mourn the king?" a fairy asked, the small voice making him turn around.

"That isn't the king, it's just me," he countered in a dazed voice. As soon as these words left his lips the coffin faded into nothingness. This display confused England even more. "Tell me, have I died?"

"Oh, we don't know. Is that what it will take for us to complete this mission's purpose?"

"No!" England's impulsive reply came. "I mean...," he took a deep breath, trying to compose an appropriate reply. "I think you've completed your purpose, there's no need to go that far."

"Can you give us a reason to believe that?"

"Well...America is treating me with respect."

"And?"

"The other countries actually listened to my orders," Arthur thought aloud, grasping at straws.

"What about you, Arthur?"

England's eyes grew wide in surprise, "What about me?"

Majority of the fairies slapped their foreheads with their palms, "So you're saying you didn't get the whole point of this?"

"I thought the point was to—"

"No, no, no," a fairy yelled out in frustration. "Let me see, how can we get you to understand this?" They all thought together in silence for a while before the fairy leader turned and faced him.

"Arthur Kirkland, tell us: who are you?"

"Well, I'm Arthur Kirkland. I don't understand where this is getting."

"No, we mean other than being Arthur Kirkland, who are you?"

"I'm the embodiment of England, the representing country of the United Kingdom," England replied obediently.

"Very good, so what did you gain from this trip, being England?"

Arthur shrugged, "A trip down memory lane? I don't know. Can you please just tell me whether I'm going to die or not?"

"This would be easier for all of us if you weren't as dense as that America," one of them snapped.

"Well excuse me for not being all-knowing. Can you just get to the point?"

"You have to be the one to figure this out on your own," they complained.

"This is a test of some sort, is it? Can't you give me a clue or a hint? Maybe even a vague subliminal message?"

Loud, simultaneous sighs came from the fairies, "Fine, we'll spoon feed 'the lesson of the day' to you. Was there any time during this adventure when you actually enjoyed being back in the past?"

"Yes."

"All right. Next, did you find yourself thinking that part of your past culture is something completely foreign to you now, even if it's something you wanted to go back to?"

"I guess..."

"Last hint, do you even recognize a hint of similarity between who you were then and who you are now?  
"I...no, not really," England admitted. The fairies gave him a few seconds to process this. "Are you trying to tell me that I've forgotten myself?"

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!" the fairies cheered.

England was now desperately confused. "All right, let me see if I've gotten this right. That trip wasn't just to remind everyone of the glory of England but it was also to remind _me_ of who I really am?"

"That sums it up it one fell swoop."

"What makes you think I've forgotten who I am? I'm sure you don't mean that I have amnesia so..."

"Look at you, England. You're nothing like the sword-wielding, honour-bound, daring knight-slash-pirate-slash-courtier everyone knew you as in your earlier years? What changed you, England? Is it that heartbreak you had to go through?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what we mean. The _main_ reason we brought you here is because you've forgotten what it means to be you, England. You've turned into someone so...different."

"Specifically in what way?"

"For one thing, you're always so mad. For another, you're becoming way too uptight. Lastly, don't think we didn't notice how miserable you always are. So we had to bring you back to the time of Camelot where you'd be forced to see how much you've changed."

"So you had to _kill _me to accomplish this? I find your means and your goal contradictory."

"Er, well, you know us fairies, right? This is how our magic works: we have to go to the extremes. You know, like how the princess actually had to kiss the toad instead of just saying sorry or how the beast had to die of heartbreak just so we could turn him back to normal. Besides, you aren't dead. Did you think we could actually kill you?"

"Oh, I don't know. I thought this was how your magic worked. Didn't you allow Little Red Riding Hood's grandmother to get eaten by a wolf? So, if I'm not dead I should be waking up now."

"Not quite yet. You have to tell us first, how did this trip help you regain yourself?"

"Why?"

"Because, well, we're sort of required to make sure you got the purpose of this whole thing. Complicated fairy rules," one of them replied, waving a hand as if to dismiss the issue.

England breathed in deeply before replying, "Well, I've gotten a chance to appreciate my culture again and do all the things I've missed. The time I didn't spend worrying about how to get home, I actually enjoyed myself."

He paused before continuing, "I know this really doesn't count but all those times I talked with Alfred helped me get over our differences, at least for a while. Plus, showing everyone how much they can learn from my culture was really quite enjoyable."

Arthur replayed the highlights of the adventure in his head. A lot of those experiences had required him to adapt his behaviour and his ways into something familiar yet somehow foreign to him, always finding everything he needed to know within himself. Had he truly hidden a part of him from himself as well as everyone else? If he didn't go through all of this, would he have continued to forget himself? All these years spent as a stranger to who he had used to be, it would be hard to make up for the lost time.

He looked up at then, meeting most of their gazes, "You were right when you said that I've changed a lot and this adventure has helped me realize how much I miss being who I used to be. This adventure has taught me a lot about myself and, despite all the inconvenience and the injuries, I really appreciated the adventure."

The fairies look quite satisfied. "Just out of curiosity," one of them said. "What are you going to do now that you've rediscovered yourself?"

"Well, I'm going to get to know England for a second time. Maybe I can learn something from him," England murmured wistfully.

"All right then, see you in the real world Arthur," the fairies smiled. "Remember: Britannia is forever."

"I'm not forgetting a second time," he muttered with a smile before his vision blacked out again.


	13. You're My Hero

America sat with unending patience at England's side. It had been three hours since the blood transfusion and England showed no signs of waking up. Alfred had called the nurse a total of _seven_ times to ask her if Arthur was actually asleep or in a comma. The last time, he just got an irritated nurse telling him that no, Arthur was not in a comma and that she'd call security if he didn't stop bothering her. The 'calling security' threat also applied to him trying to wake up the patient in any way, no matter how covert. So Alfred resolved to stay and wait for Arthur to wake up so he could see for himself that he was okay.

The other nations had arrived during the transfusion, being caught in traffic despite leaving only a minute after the ambulance. They all wanted to stay with England but the number of visitors in one room was limited to five at a time, even if the government-reserved room England was staying in was more spacious than the usual suites. The other visitors, therefore, had no choice but to wait for their turns at the hallway though most opted to return the next day.

America had sent Ireland to the United Kingdom to inform England's siblings (Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland) and to get England's things for his hospital stay. Germany resolved to take himself and Feliciano to the closest inn since the Italian seemed to be in the middle of a nervous breakdown. South Italy, Austria, Hungary, and Prussia decided to go with them and visit England the next day. This didn't mean, though, that they weren't concerned for England, in fact, everyone seemed worried, sorrowful, or guilty (or a mix of all three).

In the room with Alfred now were Canada, France, Sealand, and Australia. Canada was sitting beside him, clutching his bear close for comfort while France and Australia tried to while away their worries by teaching the distraught Sealand how to play card games like poker or some Australian variant of the game. America knew this would have upset England, had he been awake, but Alfred was too busy worrying about Arthur to stop them. Besides, if they chose to distract themselves by teaching and/or learning gambling then who was he to argue?

Alfred could feel Canada's concerned gaze directed at him now. Matthew knew that he hadn't eaten a thing since before the 'battle' and even then he ate sparingly. As if on cue, Alfred's stomach grumbled to affirm Canada's reason for concern.

"Alfred," Canada said, standing up. "I'm going out to buy us dinner. What do you want to eat?"

_Burger, pizza, soda!, _the voice in Alfred's head screamed but he silenced it, reproaching himself for being so selfish. He forced himself to shrug and smile, "Anything from the hospital cafeteria sounds good."

Matthew looked at him curiously before replying, "No, they have horrible food. I think I want burgers. Is that okay with you?"

Alfred sometimes forgot how Matthew could read him but he knew pretty well that his brother wasn't into burgers. A thankful, genuine smile lit up Alfred's face, "Yeah, Mattie that sounds all right. Thanks."

"No problem," Matthew shrugged, placing his bear on the chair in his place. "Who should I send in while I'm gone?"

Alfred thought for a moment. "I think you should bring in Sweden. He probably won't want his son to be a card dealer in Las Vegas."

"Sure thing," Matthew said, before leaving. Sweden came in less than ten seconds later and started scolding Peter for letting France and Australia teach him how to play poker. Alfred was happy for the, it was good to have something to keep him from worrying.

Turning back to Arthur, he felt his heart constrict once more. They told him that the transfusion was a success, that England would be all right, but Alfred still couldn't stop himself from worrying. He couldn't forget that bit the doctor said about further injuries or complications despite being reassured by the irritable nurse that there was only a small chance of any of that happening. A small chance was still a chance.

Matthew came back ten minutes later from the nearby burger chain carrying burgers for them all, including Sweden. Canada signalled for Sweden to stay despite defying the five visitors rule. America noticed that there was one extra burger.

"Who's the other one for?" Alfred wondered.

"Well, I thought Arthur would be a bit hungry when he wakes up," Canada admitted.

"Right...but you do know he hates burgers..."

"He doesn't _hate_ them, exactly. He just thinks fast food, in general, is unhealthy. I'm sure he wouldn't mind eating burgers just once," Canada reasoned.

"Well, if you're sure," America gave in, taking his own burger and biting out of it. The others reluctantly got their burgers as well but ate heartily after realizing how hungry they were. Alfred resolved to stand up and walk around a bit while eating. Sitting down three hours straight didn't really agree with him.

Just as he started walking around, he heard a familiar voice behind him. "Why does it smell like fast food in here?" Alfred turned around to see a tired looking, but smiling England sitting up on his hospital bed.

"Iggy!" America promptly screamed in excitement. He ran beside England's bed and tried hugging the Brit as best as he could without touching the wound.

"England!" Canada yelled as well, joining America beside England's bed.

"_Angleterre!"_

" Jerk-England!"

"Peter, don't call your brother that!"

"Arthur, mate!"

Soon, England was surrounded. America felt Arthur struggling from his bear-hug. "Guys, let's give him some room," America told them, being the hero as always. "How are you England?"

"Surprised, I guess. If this is the reaction I get whenever I get stabbed by a fictional character then I should get stabbed more often," England laughed, actually joking.

"Iggy! Don't say such things!" America scolded.

"Why Alfred, concerned?" England teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, actually," he admitted, but then decided to turn it into a joke. "We were worried that we'd have to eat this other burger by ourselves."

"Why, you bloody git! Way to spoil my moment of verbal triumph," England half-scowled. He was probably too happy being alive to waste time being angry.

"Well, I'm the hero! The hero always wins," America joked, playing along. Canada hit him lightly on the shoulder to make him stop but England didn't look upset at all. In fact, he was chuckling. Alfred was inclined to join him.

When England stopped laughing, he sighed and leaned back comfortably, "It's nice to be back."

"We're happy you're back too, England," Canada piped in. "Right Kumajiro?"

"Who are you again?"

"I'm Canada."

"Right..."

Everyone laughed at the exchange, even pouting Matthew joined in. They had to silence Canada's bear with the remainder of France's burger since it kept trying to ask who Canada was.

"Speaking of burgers..." England suddenly said. "You mentioned that you had one for me?"

America replied, "Well, yeah but if you don't want it—"

"Let me have it then. I'm hungry," England interrupted.

"You want to eat a burger?!"

"America, I'm _starving," _England said, exasperated."I'd eat anything right now, so give it."

"But it's fatty and oily, we should ask the doctor first," America hesitated.

"I'd rather be unhealthy for once in my life than to starve, give me something to eat already!"

"Oh, _Amérique, _just give him the burger," France cut in.

"But he just had a blood transfusion!" America argued.

"Three hours ago!" France countered

England sat up again with a start, "Did you say blood transfusion?"

"Yeah, England," Sealand answered while France and America continued arguing. "They injected some American's blood into you."

"What?" Arthur shouted. America turned to answer but the room door opened.

The nurse and the doctor came in, looking at the surprised countries with equally surprised faces. It wasn't everyday that you hear countries arguing in a hospital room or have someone walk in while you're having an argument with a recovering patient. When the doctor finally recovered his composure he approached England, his hand ready to shake his patient's. The nurse began to check England's readings.

"Good evening, Mr. Kirkland. I'm your doctor, Mr. Grayson." England took the doctor's hand and shook it. "We're glad to see that you're awake. I've been treating Mr. Jones for his government concerned injuries these past few years so please rest assured that your identity as a country is being kept in confidentiality."

"Thank you, Dr. Grayson," England replied cordially. "I appreciate your professionalism. Now, can you tell Mr. Jones that I am allowed to eat a burger?"

"Mr. Kirkland, you have just woken up. I think we should check your vitals first," the doctor replied.

"Haha!" America taunted. "I told you so, Iggy." England glared at him, grumbling under his breath.

"Er," the doctor suddenly interrupted. "I think Mr. Kirkland and I should talk about his current condition in private."

"Why in private?" Alfred asked, concerned once more.

"Because you're bothering the heck out of me," England muttered.

The doctor ignored England's retort and just answered America with a calm smile, "Doctor, patient confidentiality Mr. Jones. We're just trying to observe protocol."

"All right-y then," Alfred replied. "Let's go nations." The guests left the room for a few minutes before the doctor signalled that they could come in again.

After a bit more arguing over the burger (which England ended up eating anyway), the doctor and the nurse finished their checks and left. Sweden and England also agreed that it was way past Sealand's bedtime and they decided to go as well. Finland dropped in and said hello before leaving with his 'husband' and son. Canada considerately decided to leave as well so that other visitors could get their turn. Many more visitors came in to say a quick greeting before leaving to find some hotel to stay in during the night.

Russia and China were the last visitors waiting outside the hallway.

"So you are fine now, aru?" Yao asked.

"Pretty much, Yao, thanks for asking," England replied.

China looked unconvinced. "Does your side still hurt?"

"A bit, yeah."

At this Russia lit up, "Nothing a little opium can fix, right Yao?"

They all froze and looked at him. England and China were actually gawking. "Er, Ivan, I think we need to go," China stuttered, pushing Russia to the door with him.

"Aw, it was just getting fun. Anyway, we're glad you're better England. Hope you're well enough to become one with me soon," Russia waved.

"Yeah, yeah. Get well soon, aru," China hurriedly added, closing the door behind him.

"That was weird, mate," Australia murmured. The others just nodded, except for England who looked completely tired out. America noticed this and realized that England needed to get some sleep.

"Guys, I think Iggy needs to sleep now," Alfred said, hinting at their departure.

"So?" France asked.

"So, I think he needs some quiet," America answered.

"Oh, fine. We get the point, mates. France, we should go, eh?" Australia suggested.

"_Oui,oui,_" France finally agreed. "I wonder, though, why it is Alfred who will be staying with _Angleterre._ Looking for time alone with Arthur, _mon cheri_?" France hinted suggestively.

"Francis!" America and England snapped simultaneously.

"I get the point, already. We are going. A_u revior_," France waved, going out the door Australia held open.

"Bye!" Australia yelled out as he exited the doorway and shut the door behind him.

America heard England sigh in exhaustion so he dimmed the lamp beside the hospital bed and turned off the other lights.

"Thanks Alfred," he heard Arthur say.

"No prob, Iggy," Alfred said cheerfully. "You know, I'm really glad you're okay."

"The doctor told me I would've died if it weren't for you," England murmured.

America, for once, didn't take advantage of England's admittance. "Anyone would've called the ambulance if they were in my situation. It's no big deal, really."

"No, not just that," England argued. "The doctor told me about the blood transfusion. Are you aware that he used your donated blood to replace what I lost?"

America froze, "He did?"

Arthur nodded, "Apparently, some time ago, you donated blood for the patients at this hospital, correct?"

"Yeah."

"To make sure that the operation was a success, they used your blood. The doctor said I was lucky they had decided not to use it before, you being different from a regular person and all. Nation blood, it's running through my veins right now," Arthur whispered, so softly that America had to listen quietly to understand him.

"It's good that it's been put to perfect use then," America replied slowly, unsure of what to say.

"Well, to get to the point I just wanted to say...thank you, Alfred. Thank you for being a hero, because it saved me even if you probably didn't intend it then."

Alfred shook his head vigorously, "I'm not the hero Iggy, you are. You got us home, I broke my promise. I let him hurt you."

"No, it wasn't your fault. It was King Arthur's destiny, and it was mine. Besides, it also taught me something about myself."

"Like what?"

"It taught me that even if I make myself believe that I don't care, I would still die for every single one of you," England whispered.

"Even me?"

"Especially you."

Alfred wanted to reply but when he looked up at England again the Brit's eyes were closed. America nervously checked England's breathing but apparently, he was only asleep.

Alfred sighed with relief and settled on the couch nearby. They were all back, England was alive. Finally, this story could have a happy ending.

***

_OKAY, so it's the end. Already? I rather feel like I've rushed it. Do you guys want an epilogue or an alternate ending? I'll keep the status of this open until I've gotten your replies. Thanks for reading to the end (or near end) and for reviewing. You guys are awesome! _

_ -Mira_


	14. Epilogue: At America's House

_AN: Okay, here's the requested epilogue (which I loved writing). It's not very fluffy, or USUK-ish. I'll make up for it with an alternate-ending, which could be angsty, by the way. Hope you enjoy it anyway, the lack of fluff saddens me. _

_***_

When England was finally discharged from the hospital, America insisted that he stayed over for a few days. The term insisting applies to stealing Arthur's phone so that he couldn't call the airport or his boss, finding some way to stop the Wi-Fi connection in his room (preferably by knocking out the entire hospital's system), and barricading the door with all the movable furniture in the room. These attempts caused England's blood pressure to rise and almost led to America getting arrested. In the end, Arthur really had no choice but to accept America's offer.

Many of the countries stayed to help England get settled and to make sure of his continued well being. Arthur found this rather touching but he didn't dare say so for fear of being teased. America also offered to give England his room for the duration of his visit.

"I'd rather not, Alfred. Your room smells of burgers," England lied. "I'm more comfortable in the guest room."

"Fine, suit yourself," America shrugged, lifting England's suitcases up the stairs and into the guest room. "France is cooking lunch," he told Arthur as he climbed back down the steps. "Do you want anything specific? I think he knows how to bake scones...you know, edible ones."

England scowled. "Tell him not to bother. Don't you have a well-developed system of fast-food delivery?"

"You _hate_ fast food," America reminded him.

"It's better than French cuisine, maybe even English cuisine...sometimes."

America's eyes grew wide in surprise, "Did you actually just say that?"

Arthur's brows furrowed, "Yes, what of it?"

Alfred blinked away the surprise, "Oh, never mind." England was probably just having post-hospitalization mood swings. He probably just missed the outside world too much.

The countries started flocking to Alfred's kitchen, claiming their respective seats at the food-laden table. America saved two seats at the middle of the table for both of them and when they were all settled, they all started eating.

England only had one bite of the dish so far but that didn't stop him from spitting it out, "It's so bland. Francis, did you put any seasoning in this, at all?"

"Only the best, _Angleterre,_" France replied, taking a bite himself. "It tastes the same as the dish normally does. Maybe it is just you, _mon cheri._"

"Don't call me that. Anyway, it needs more salt...and hot sauce," England said. "America do you have any of the stuff?"

"Hot sauce?" Sealand cut in as America went to fetch the said item. "You _hate_ hot sauce."

England glared, "Who ever said such a thing?"

"Uh, you did."

"I most certainly did not. I have nothing against hot sauce," England argued. When Alfred handed him the bottle, he poured a big amount of it on his meal. When England was done, Alfred got the bottle and did the same thing, covering his plate with the stuff.

"England is acting weird today, huh?" Italy gushed to Germany who just nodded in silent agreement.

"What's for desert?" America asked, ignorant of the weirdness.

"Chocolate cake," Canada quietly replied.

"Chocolate? Cake?" America repeated, unable to ignore the two words even if they did come from Matthew.

"Yeah," Hungary nodded, "with extra chocolate fudge on top."

"Wait a minute," England suddenly spoke up. Everyone turned to him, hoping he had nothing against the desert.

"Yeah Iggy?" America asked nervously.

After a short pause, Arthur asked, "How big is the cake?"

"Big enough so we'll have one slice each, I guess," Elizabeta shrugged.

"Only one slice each?" both Alfred and Arthur asked simultaneously.

"Yeah, isn't that enough?"

England's lips pressed together in an unsatisfied frown, "It hardly seems filling, don't you think?"

"Well, Matthew and I could've baked more if Alfred actually stocked his kitchen."

"Matt-who?" Alfred joked.

England just turned to him frowning and said, "This is all your fault, you know."

"What did I do?" America asked defensively.

"If you actually did your groceries on a weekly basis then we would have more cake to share, you git."

America suddenly lit up and asked, "Hey, you don't like chocolate that much, right? Can I have your slice?"

"Are you kidding me? Since this cake shortage is your fault then you should be the one making up for it by giving me _your_ slice," Arthur snapped.

"No way!" Alfred shouted back in reply, deafening the Englishman beside him. "Give me liberty, or give me cake!"

"Don't you dare use that line on me," England countered. "I gave you liberty centuries ago, so you have no right to cake."

A very long and loud argument ensued and none of the other countries could bring themselves to believe that it was about chocolate cake. Hungary leaned over to whisper to Austria, "Is it just me or England is acting quite differently?"

"I noticed it too," Italy said proudly, hearing Hungary's whisper. "I can finally read the atmosphere. Isn't that great, Germany?"

"Yes, Italy," Germany replied with a sigh. "That's very observant of you."

"Applaud for my brother properly, you potato freak!" Romano screamed angrily.

"I have to say, both you and Hungary are right, Italy," France nodded, ignoring Romano. "I've never seen _Angleterre _act so immature. Perhaps his injury or stay at the hospital has affected him in some way? I am just not sure how."

"I think he's being a lot like America today," Canada whispered. No one really heard him, except for France who nodded.

America and England were now trying to arm wrestle for the slice of chocolate cake, which still hadn't been served. The countries watched America win three times in a row.

"That's so unfair," England protested. "I've just been discharged from the hospital and I don't have superhuman strength, unlike _some_ people."

"Hey, all's fair in war and cake," America shrugged. "I get your slice." He then got up and ran to the kitchen to claim the said cake.

"Come back here, you inconsiderate prat!"

"Make me, old dude!"

The other countries suddenly agreed that this was a good time to leave the room, no one wanted to witness a full-scale food fight between America and England. Especially since Arthur was now threatening to cause bodily harm unto America in a variety of bloody and gruesome ways. Sealand was the last one to leave the room, having to be forced outside by his parents because he kept insisting that he needed to videotape the upcoming international incident of the year.

When America came back with the cake in his hands, he looked around, confused to find only England in his kitchen. "Where did the others go?"

Arthur was too busy muttering a levitation spell to reply. Before America knew it, all the food on the table was flying straight at him. He dove to avoid the dishes of food shooting at him. When England's ammo of flying food ran out, America stood up smugly (since he managed to avoid them all _and_ save the cake) and jokingly declared war.

The next half-hour was full of slamming chocolate cake in each other's faces and trying to avoid actually getting hit. Soon they were laughing so hard that they were crying tears of mirth. When they ran out of cake, they were both forced to negotiate a cease fire.

"So, I'm guessing you've had enough cake, Iggy?" America laughed.

England tried to scowl as he tried to wipe the chocolate from his face. "I feel like I never want to see chocolate fudge again, let alone eat it."

"That's what you get for trying to steal my chocolate," Alfred teased. "Anyway, want to go clean up now, Iggy?"

"You git, you didn't have to ask. Isn't it obvious?"

"So you don't need to clean up?" America pretended to look confused.

"Of course I do!" England fumed.

"All right, all right already," America laughed. "I'll go get the towels."

When America came back with the towels, both of them started wiping themselves clean. Alfred, uncomfortable with the silence, tried to strike up a conversation.

"Iggy?"

England turned to him, wiping the cake from his arm, "Yeah?"

"That was fun," America replied awkwardly.

"Yeah," England just said, nodding once.

"You know what?" America said suddenly. "I'm so happy we can have fun together, again. The past few centuries have...really pulled us apart."

"Alfred...please don't ruin the moment by being all sentimental," England sighed. "I don't want to spend time dwelling in the past. You know I've done enough of _that_."

"All right." A few moments of silence passed.

"But I agree," England suddenly said, wiping away the last of the chocolate. He paused for a moment before admitting, "I missed you too, Alfred."

America suddenly turned to him, feigning confusion. "Wait a minute, who ever said that I missed you?"

"But I thought...Alfred, you bloody git, I hate you," England growled, cursing as he through the dirty towel at America's face. He stomped out of the room and up the stairs to his room.

America laughed before running after him, "Wait, Iggy! I was just kidding."

The countries, chatting in the other room, couldn't help but notice the scene and laugh.

"Those two will never change, will they?" Sealand laughed.

France nodded, smiling, "At least in the way they deal with each other."

They all jumped in surprise when America came running down the stairs, shouting at the top of his voice, "England sent his fairy friends after me! Run!"

Turning to each other, wide-eyed with surprise, they all tried to make a laugh out of it. After the adventure they've just gotten through, though, they weren't all that successful.

"Haha," Sealand laughed nervously. "Fairies."

"How...ridiculous," Austria agreed.

"_Oui_," France chimed in. "But I think that we should...check if America is all right."

"Yes, I think we should," Japan nodded, standing up. Afraid of being left alone, everyone then panicked, jumped up and ran to the safety of their borrowed rooms.

"Hey, don't forget me," Canada cried, running after them. He thought he had heard England laughing rather creepily in the guest room upstairs as the nations freaked out.

***

_Just another night with the nations_, England thought, getting into his covers so he could fall asleep. It was nice to have things go back to normal after all that craziness, to think about it, things were better now than they had ever been. Arthur smiled as he remembered all the happy moments shared with the rest of the nations, especially America.

"Goodnight, Arthur," he heard a fairy say to him as his eyes closed.

"'Night," he replied. Then, without opening his eyes, he asked, "When do you think America and the others will figure out that I didn't send you guys after them?"

"We're placing our bets on sometime tonight," another fairy replied. "You care to place a bet? Winner gets an ample supply of unicorn hair."

"Hm, put me up for tomorrow morning. I don't think any of them are getting any sleep tonight."

He heard them laugh, "You meanie, giving them a scare like that...anyway, goodnight Britannia, sweet dreams."

"It's England," he mumbled as he fell asleep at last.

***

_Credit to aoi_aka (from Livejournal) and Wang Yao (from ) for helping me come up with the Arthur acting like America because of the blood transfusion and the countries not able to joke about the fairies anymore. Thanks to you two for the help :)_


	15. Alternate Ending: Goodbye

_AN: Here it is. I hope the last part isn't too confusing. _

_***_

I had failed.

That's what it all comes down to now that this is all over. It's the silent thought in everyone's head and only one screaming in mine as they look at you for the last time, before you would be buried in the earth. I stand a distance away from the rest, watching from afar as they mourned. They're crying for youIggy.

Trying to hold the tears back is pointless, even if I know that I don't have the right to be consoled by releasing this despair. I didn't deserve to see you one last time, I didn't deserve to stand beside you and hope that we'll see each other again someday. What have I ever done to prove that I cared for you, that you meant everything to me?

I watched them lowering the casket, knowing that this is our last goodbye. Have I failed you once again for not being there to even mumble a few words of apology or thanks? Iggy, will you understand that this is the least of ways that I can make myself suffer and I'm punishing myself just so I can ever be deserving of your forgiveness?

There is nothing I want more right now than to stop breaking myself apart and to just run up and come crying to you. I want nothing more than to break the coffin's glass which separates us and to take your cold hand in mine. Then I'll let myself believe, just for a moment, that you'll suddenly open your eyes and I'll have another chance. This time, I won't waste a single moment with you; this time, I'll tell you everything I've wanted to say for years.

Then, I'll wake up from that fantasy and the whole world will come crashing down on me again. The only consolation of that is that it can't possibly hurt as much as this, as much as this...abstention. There is gratitude, regret, guilt, devastation in my heart just looking for a way to find comfort in you. Even if I don't grieve them out aloud, will you look at me from up there and let me know somehow that you see how sorry I am and how much I miss you? Even just the smallest sign, the tiniest hint will bring me a little relief.

They're now burying your remains with earth and I can't help but let out a tiny yelp of disapproval. Even if I know that your soul is no longer in that casket, I can't stand seeing anyone try to hurt you. I feel as if I'd do anything to protect you, I'd give up my own life if it meant saving yours. Why, then, did I fail? Maybe I'm not as self-sacrificing as I thought. Maybe I'm not your hero, maybe you're mine.

This realization just makes me want to break down completely, but I can't. I won't. I can't have you see me like that. I didn't fight for independence and your respect just for you to see me crying for you to come back. I didn't go through all those times I bit back my tears of regret just to have the all of them spilling out now.

I didn't realize that they had finished with the burial ceremony already. I didn't hear Francis and Matthew coming to console me, either.

"What do you want?" I ask them before they could even say anything. My attitude surprises me too, Iggy. I kind of sound like you, don't you think. It gets me thinking: If our positions were interchanged, would you cry for me like I am for you now or would you forever stay in that hard shell? Maybe you won't even care. No, that can't be true. You died for us, didn't you? You died for me.

"Alf, maybe we should go now," Mattie whispers. Frankly, I'm surprised. I was expecting an 'are you okay, Alf' or maybe even 'I know you're hurting the most, Alf. Let it all out already'. I was not anticipating him to want to leave so quickly. I look at his eyes for answers but I see that they're bright with tears. How inconsiderate of me! I forgot that I wasn't the only one mourning you.

"All right, Mattie," I just reply and he reaches out to hold my arm. I hear two loud sobs from him and I offer him my shoulder for him to cry on. Francis just holds Mat's shoulder comfortingly.

"We will all get through this, _oui?" _he tries to sound reassuring but I know that he is more likely looking for the reassurance. I remember how you two always fought but how you always said that you knew each other better than everyone else. He meant a lot to you, you still mean a lot to him. I cannot stop myself from silently declaring that I cared for you more than he ever could and wishing that I meant more to you than he did.

I can almost feel jealousy eating me up but I remind myself that I don't have the right to claim you as my own or even think that I could be so much to you. We walk away from your grave like that, supporting each other but knowing that we'd all fall anyway. What would we do without you? What is your country now that you're gone? They didn't fall like you did, the clock tower they call Big Ben never stopped ticking. The country is never dependent on its embodiment but the embodiment is dependent on his country, how unfair was that?

I can almost hate your people for going on with their lives as if nothing had happened, for not even knowing how much you suffered with them, for them. _Almost._ They're all I have left of you now. Your country still stands even if you have fallen and I can only hope that I see the bits and pieces of you that I found so endearing in your people.

We're walking farther and farther away from your grave, I feel like I'm leaving a something behind. I realize that you were, no, you are a big part of my life that makes me who I am. I am so empty without you.

I break away from my reverie long enough for me to notice a small boy, sitting alone not so far away. I mumble to Mattie and Francis that I'll catch up with them later. They look at me curiously before nodding and going on their way. Do they think I might to kill myself or something? I'm not pulling of a Romeo. My large pride still wants me to remain strong.

I wait for them to walk a certain distance away before I approached the child. What was a boy doing alone in this lonely place? He is turned away from me, leaning against a tree and breathing deeply. Poor boy, he must be asleep. Worried for his safety, I approach him and I can't help but notice the color of his hair. Blonde, eerily the same shade as yours.

I stop walking when I am only two steps behind his sleeping form. I slowly crouch down, so as not to startle him and I gently put my arm on his small shoulder. I lightly shook him and he woke up. He turned to me and his eyes met mine. They were green, Iggy, just like yours.

My surprise makes me launch myself backwards and my head falls on the soft grass. He looks at me, concerned and I look back at him as if he were a ghost. He looks just like you Iggy, albeit younger. From the light blond hair, messy atop his head, to the somber expression on his face, to the way he looked at me queerly. Just like you. Are you trying to haunt me, Iggy? It's working, just so you know.

"Are you all right, sir?" he says in a soft voice that sounds almost identical to your own. I'm sure of it because your voice is something I've been repeating over and over in my head just to keep myself from forgetting.

"Who are you?" I ask him. I know I shouldn't be asking a child such personal questions but I couldn't help it. You try seeing someone you love come back from the dead and you'll understand what I mean. Er, I don't mean anything when I say that, Iggy. Please don't haunt me.

The boy just looks at me with wide eyes, so cautious and guarded (like you) and shakes his head, "I don't know sir. I don't have a name. Should I help you up?"

He seems a bit too small to help me up so I just shake my head. I sit upright, still trying to get over the shock. "What are you doing here, kid?" I ask him.

"I don't know," he says again, softer this time. After a pause he mentions, "I was here when you and those other people came. I watched your friend's funeral. I hope I wasn't intruding."

"No," I mumble helplessly. "You weren't." Tell me, Iggy, how am I supposed to tell your identical look-alike that he was intruding your funeral? "Anyway, I'm Alfred," I introduce myself. "How long have you been here? Who's been taking care of you?"

"I've been here for a few days, I guess. The fairies take care of me but they won't answer any of my questions," he answers. "

"Fairies?" I ask. He sounded just like you did when you talked about fairies. They seemed like a natural part of life for him too.

"Yes." He looks up at me. "Don't you see them?"

I shake my head, "I don't. Anyway, you shouldn't be out here on your own."

"I'm not on my own, I'm with the fairies," he insists.

"You need a home and a family," I argue, thinking of how you provided those things for me.

"A family?" he wonders aloud.

"Yeah. You know, people who'll take care of you and love you, special people who find you just as special."

"Do you have a family?"

I freeze at the question, thinking of your death once again. "You know that guy, the one we buried?" I ask, looking away from him. I didn't want him to see the pain on my face. He nods and I continue, "When I was your age, he took me in and became my family. He became my big brother and he was my protector."

"Is it nice to have a brother?"

I turn back to him, "Yeah, it's one of the best things in life." You _were_ one of the best things in life, Iggy. I wish I had told you that.

"I wish I had a brother," he whispered softly, interrupting my thoughts. I finally realize what I can do for this boy, what I can do for both of us. This is how I'm going to make it up to you.

"Hey," I stand up, reaching my hand out to him. "Would you like me to be your brother?"

His eyes widen again, "I can be your brother?"

I nod, smiling, "I can't leave you out here alone, can I? I'll take you in and protect you, just like my brother did for me." I will take care of this boy the way you took care of me and even if he could never fill up the hole in my heart you left behind, he could help me stop the bleeding.

"A-all right then," he stutters. The world slows as his small hand clasps mine. I feel the warmth of his grasp and I feel as if I already love him a lot. It makes me wonder: Iggy, did you come back from the dead as a child to comfort me? Is this the other chance I have been asking for?

"Let's go home," I say to him and he nods. As we walk away together I hear his small voice ask, "What was your brother's name?"

"Arthur," I answer him softly. "You look just like him."

"The fairies said something about someone named Arthur," he says knowingly. I stop and turn to look at him. Your fairy friends could've revealed something about this mysterious boy, about your death.

"What do they say?"

"They say, 'Arthur is the once and future King.' What does that mean?" he asks. I suddenly remember the consoling ending of the legend. You once told me that Arthur would someday rise again. Had that part come true as well? Is this small boy really you?

I suddenly feel tears stinging my eyes once more. It's true, then. You've come back to me, Iggy. I bend down and hug you tightly. I'm _never _letting you go. "It means that your name is Arthur. Would you like me to call you that?"

You nod, "Thank you for giving me a name, big brother." Memories of you and me come pouring into my mind and the waterworks start up again. You squeeze my arm and try to comfort me desperately, "Don't cry big brother. I'm sorry I made you cry." You have no idea, do you Iggy? You have no idea how happy I am.

I try to reassure you by placing my hand on your head, "You didn't do anything wrong, Arthur. I'm sorry you had to see that." I smile and take you into my arms, carrying you the rest of the way.

This is a new start for the both of us, a new life for you. This time, I'm going to take care of you, Iggy. I'll do all the things that you've once done for me. This is how I'm going to make up for my failure and maybe, one day, it'll be my turn to die for you.

***

_AN: I couldn't resist making them happy, but there was enough angst there right? I know what you're thinking. How can England be this boy if they'd just buried him? Well, England died about a week before the funeral and the boy said he had been at the place for a few days. There was enough time to reincarnate him, depending on how you look at it. They're countries so the regular human growth cycle doesn't exactly apply to them right. Let's just point a finger at the fairies and make them explain it. _

_I hope you enjoyed this, even if it was a bit confusing. Curious, though, how many of you actually prefer this ending to the real one? _

_Thanks once again for reading, everyone. Special thanks for those who encouraged me to make this and suggested the angst. Also to _**Petit-Sapphire-Jai **_for helping me come up with the Iggy-baby idea. _


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